A Millennial Eternity
by ZoSo7MoS
Summary: After a thousand years of running from Alagaesia, Divine Grace brings Eragon's path back to Du Weldenvarden in search of the one he thought he had long forgotten... (Arya/Eragon), Mentions of (Murtagh/Nasuada). Heartbroken Ice Queen Arya/Lonely God Eragon.
1. Chapter 1- Eragon

**A/N- Adding to the hundreds of Arya/Eragon Fanfics already here...**

 **Here's all the drama of reconciliation ramped up to 11. Instead of ten years or even a hundred, there is a millennium...**

 **Summary: After a thousand years of running from Alagaesia, Divine Grace brings Eragon's path back to Du Weldenvarden in search of the one he thought he had long forgotten...**

* * *

 **A Millenn** **ial Eternity**

 **By ZoSo7MoS**

* * *

 **Chapter 1- Eragon**

 **1000 Years After Inheritance**

Eragon felt _old._ Worn too thin, like a piece of paper that was marked over and over until the material stretched over the seams, threatening to fall apart.

He was _tired._ Living the same life for a thousand years, he had learned to understand that that was never a good thing. But it was not physical weakness or magical incapacity that gnawed at his strength. He was powerful now. More powerful than the Riders of Old. Vrael himself would pale in comparison, as Umaroth had so eloquently said not a fortnight before.

With the Eldunari's help, he had discovered new branches of magic, new ways to manipulate the Ancient Language into altering the fabric of reality. He had found ways to cast spells utilizing the energy from the sun...he had found ways to tear apart objects, be they living or not, from the inside. He had even discovered a way to save people on the brink of death.

But what was the point?

Life was meaningless. All that power, but no soul. His heart belonged only to one. _Saphira._

Many years had passed since Alagaesia stopped sending him riders to train. He remembered the very first, a young elf, with bronzed hair and keen blue eyes, swimming with wisdom. Eragon had been younger than the elf, but even at that age, he was more powerful. When the egg had hatched for the elf, he had been delighted for an apprentice. He shaped the elven rider into a powerful spirit, and sent him to Alagaesia. They seemed happy with the results, and sent him more to train.

They would travel thousands of leagues, many almost dying in the process. The road was long and harsh, difficult to travel on. There were demons and devilish creatures from unearthly realms, who could not die. There were behemoth's made of stone, magical creatures that were invulnerable to spells. There were even wild dragons...though they weren't pure dragons. There was a magical flux of energy around the place, which had mutated the ecosystem into a convoluted mess. These creatures could not survive outside their natural habitats. The reason? There was a gemstone, set into the heart of a mountain, and it was _Alive._

It was on this mountain that Eragon had settled. It was not anywhere _close_ to Alagaesia. The mountain he had named _Bjartskular._ It was a sanctuary for the last rider of the dark ages. After the first elf had left, the next riders sent from the motherland were slow to come, until they stopped coming entirely. Eragon was left forgotten, a hero only etched in myth. He had wanted to go back...but his heart told him it was not wise. He was at peace...or so he told himself.

 _Why hadn't I gone back sooner?_ He thought as he stood on the peak of the mountain, feeling the cold wind bite his skin. He had forgotten. _Echoes of whispers, glistening in the moonlight like dewdrops in a storm. A memory just beyond my grasp. A face I can't seem to remember, as time would make me forget._ He remembered dark, hazelnut hair. Doe eyes the colour of evergreen leaves, red lips stained permanently with a tinge of cherry...

He didn't remember her name...

Sighing, he took a deep breath and jumped off the mountaintop. The sky rippled around him as he sliced through the air like a knife. Moments before crashing into the ground, a iridescent blue colossus caught him on her back.

 _Saphira..._

 _Yes, little one...Tell me what is bothering you._

 _Do you remember the last time we saw another face...?_

The response was a hoarse whisper, almost. _Three hundred years ago._

His blood almost froze. _What have I become, Saphira? Alagaesia has forgotten me...I exist only in legend...I do not remember the last time I saw a human face...My past is so long ago that it cannot even be put into words...I long for company._

 _...The Eldunari are dying, and so is Bjartskular...The magic in the air is fading...What has the world become...?_

She crooned softly. _Do you remember why we never went back? You don't, obviously, but I still do. Your heart was broken, yet whole...You did not understand when the time would be right to return...As the students came and went, your thoughts of her lessened. I watched as it happened, I watched your heart turn into something indifferent...your compassion, your soul. It withered and died, Eragon. I could not force you to try and change that, because you were at peace..._

He sighed softly, landing in front of the cave he called home. It was no small cave, it was more of a cavern. The opening was small, barely big enough for Saphira, but the interior ran till the heart of the mountain. He needed to consult the gemstone for advice. Unsaddling Saphira, he quickly kept everything properly and ran to the centre of the mountain.

Reaching the hall of the gem, he placed a hand upon the massive red ruby. It glowed, and the spirit within it spoke.

 _ **Eragon**_ _ **...**_

 _ **It is me.**_

 _ **I see what it is that troubles you.**_ _ **...**_

 _ **What must I do...?**_

 _ **Go back to the land of elves**_ _ **...**_

 **What will I find there?**

 _ **Love.**_

He jolted his hand away from the ruby, which was pulsating with magic.

 _Do I even want Love? Or can I even feel this emotion...? There is only one who ever made me Love, and she is likely long dead._

 _Tut, Tut, little one. Do not be so foolish to discard the wisdom of the mountain._

 _Are you saying we go back to Alagaesia? After a MILENNIA?_

Saphira merely turned and gave him a toothy grin. He took a deep breath.

 _I am tired of being tired. We leave tomorrow on the morn._

Saphira roared in triumph, blasting fire at the sky.

* * *

 **Please leave a review :) I appreciate feedback and I look to incorporate your suggestions into the story.**


	2. Chapter 2- Arya

**A/N- 9 Followers in a day? Thank you so much!**

 **Thank you all for reviewing, Agnafra, MalevolentPsycho, sparkybowling, and guest. I promise I will keep at it, because I also hate to see unfinished works. :) You should check out my other story (Justice League fic) If you like the idea of a Lonely God/Unsung Hero :)**

 **Anyway, shameless self advertising aside, here is the second chapter...**

* * *

 **A Millennial Eternity**

 **Chapter 2- Arya**

She lightly touched the bright metallic flower growing upon her windowsill, admiring its silky texture. The golden lily was old, an immortal organism that was magical in nature. It was a gift from the spirits, one she thought she remembered receiving.

Allowing the light to fall upon her skin, Arya Drottning stretched her arms, soaking in the fine morning. It was a bright day, and the forests of Du Weldenvarden were _alive,_ more so than ever, with the dozens of dragons now populating the forests, many of them wild. The offspring of Dragons were offered a choice, whether to live freely or to bond with a rider. Many chose to do so, and there was a new League of Riders that protected the free lands of the Spine. The wild dragons did not quarrel with this elite team. They were at peace with the elves, and did not intrude upon their cities. Alagaesia had attained peace.

But Arya was discontent. For an elf, time passes much too quickly, and she had seen emperors rise and fall, democracies establish themselves, and technology flourish in the land. Throughout all those years, she had yet to find an heir to the throne. Her long lifespan meant she could rule indefinitely, but she had yet to find a mate.

Firnen had several, and all the female dragons would court him frequently, admiring the eldest dragon in all of Alagaesia. There once were dragons older than him, but Arya did not know where they were, or whether they were even alive. She found she did not care. After so many years, she no longer expected any sign that the First Rider of Free Alagaesia was alive. He had passed beyond her sight, and beyond her heart.

She only remembered the face of a tired soul, one who had suffered far beyond his years, going into exile. She did not remember his face, nor his personality. All she thought she knew had been convoluted and deformed from the myths that had woven themselves around his name. _Eragon._

Eragon the Wise.

Eragon Shadebane.

Eragon Kingkiller.

Eragon the Legend.

She did not know what she had once felt for him, and she didnt want to remember. In the early days, a hundred years after the fall of the dark king, songs had been sung about a great romance between the queen of the elves and the legendary rider, but Arya herself did not remember if they were true. Her true name had changed over the years, and she no longer had any attachment to the one they had spun legends from.

She sighed, wondering why she was dwelling on him today after so many years. Something in the golden flower had sparked a memory...a grass boat...spirits...his smile.

But she could not remember. Taking a deep breath, she reached out with her mind. _Firnen._

 _I am here, Arya. Are you ready to begin the celebrations?_

 _It has been a millennia, and I feel that festivities are no longer required every year over the fall of a tyrant an era ago._

 _The fall of Galbatorix was the only reason we are still alive, and we owe our peace to Eragon-elda for liberating us from evil._

 _Elda...? Can you not speak his name? Or have you forgotten that I am older than he is?_

 _It matters not. Come, let us prepare. The riders have created something truly spectacular._

 _What is it?_

 _Come and see._

In a huff, she climbed out of the tree-house, and saddled onto Firnen. With a roar, the emerald dragon flapped his wings, and set off. In the air, Arya's thoughts strayed once again to the issue that had been bothering her. _I do not have a mate, Firnen. I do not long for company, yet I feel an emptiness in my heart that cannot be filled. I do not understand why my people cower before me. They are afraid, and do not wish to offend me. I cannot be myself around them._

 _You are old, and wise. They can see the burden of wisdom in your eyes, as I see it now. You are untouchable to them, too pure to be sullied with their compassion._

 _Hush now, handsome one. Flattery does not suit you._

Firnen rumbled, and Arya closed her eyes and leaned towards him, feeling the pleasant heat radiating off of his shimmering scales. With a content sigh, she let peace flow through her. Yet, there was a nagging sensation in the back of her head, a little voice pushing her forward, urging her to run away. To run away from all the responsibility, and to be free.

She had not smiled in public for over seven hundred years, and the dissatisfaction of the queen was clearly visible to the elves, and Arya was aware of this. Still, no matter how much she tried, her enthusiasm would falter every time she saw a couple of the younglings romping in the forest, or when she saw two riders madly in love, joined by the bonds of their dragons. It disgusted her, and she didnt know why. The fact that they could find someone who understood them enough to look past their flaws and _love them_ , irked her to her core.

Only Firnen saw her for who she truly was. To the elves and riders of Du Weldenvarden, she was an Ice Queen.

Snapping her eyes open at her easily distracted mind, she looked down at the field that they were approaching. _Firnen, what is that...?_

Her eyes widened at the monolith that had been sculpted out of an enormous boulder of crystal. Where the riders had found this rock, she could not understand, but what was more perplexing was the sculpture they had created.

It was of two dragons, flying around one another in an intricate dance, with two figures in the centre, holding swords above their heads. The dragons were a shining green and an iridescent blue. It was obvious to Arya who the two figures were, but she was still reeling in shock that the riders had created something so intricate and beautiful. The detail in the design was flawless, and the two dragons rippled as if they were alive. The figures were holding hands, and the taller male had a tight, strong expression on his face, which was contrasted sharply by the soft face of the woman to his right.

It was a beautiful imitation of her and Eragon, but she felt nauseous.

 _No no. We weren't like that. It was nothing like that...He...he ran away. He didn't come back. He never loved me. I became strong. I became what Alagaesia needed me to be. A queen. And that is what they need to see me as. They can never see this._

 _Arya... It is too beautiful to be destroyed._

 _I know..._

She landed gracefully in the lush grass, and jumped off of Firnen with ease. Turning to the riders, she could see the expectant looks on their faces wrought with nervousness. Sighing, she motioned to Mairon, the first rider that had come back from the Farland. Anxiously, he stepped up, but did not flinch.

Slowly, she attempted to smile, leaving an awestruck elf with his jaw hanging open.

" _Thaet er nuanen._ It is beautiful."

"Thank you, Arya Drottning...we made it for the Agaeti Blodhren celebration in a months time. We wish to reveal it to the people today, however, and display it in the great hall until the celebration."

"I cannot allow this. You must keep it secret. I will consider allowing this to be used in the Agaeti Blodhren, but it must not be displayed to the public. Consider it an order."

"Er...your majesty...but..."

Firnen snapped his jaws in irritation, and Mairon kept quiet. Arya nodded grimly in satisfaction, and hoisted herself upon Firnen's back.

 _Let us return to Tialdari hall. I wish to oversee what other foolishness the people have done in the celebrative frenzy. I dont want_ _ **ANY**_ _surprises..._

* * *

 **A/N- PLEASE REVIEW! SUGGESTIONS ARE WELCOME AND WILL BE INCORPORATED INTO THE STORY!**


	3. Chapter 3- The Journey Begins

**A/N- Simply Amazed at the amount of reviews. Thank you all so much, Bilbom8, catherine10, melli, Naerys Targaryen, Anonymous, theangrychef, Exa4ever, Sam, Elemental Dragon Slayer, diabolo88000, Storyreeder, 2 guests, and...**

 **Gilly the Fish! (Special thanks for the long review, and also, I checked out The Color Thief, and I have to say, It's not bad AT ALL. Its really quite good!)**

 **All nonsense aside, here is...**

* * *

 **A Millennial Eternity**

 **Chapter 3- The Journey Begins**

Eragon placed the furnished saddle onto Saphira's back, tying the knot as firmly as he could. After securing the rope, he cast the spell to shelter the Eldunari. The hundreds of dragon hearts hovered in the air behind him, a silhouette in his shadow.

 _We should leave, Saphira, the sun has risen and we need to travel as much as we can before it sets. There are things lurking out there that even I cannot fathom._

The blue dragon snorted in defiance. _They wont be a problem for us. We are much stronger than we were a thousand years ago, when we first came here._

 _True...but even now, I am still wary of the badlands lying between us and Alagaesia. Do you remember what the forest was called? The forest of the elves?_

 _Du Weldenvarden...Dragons do not forget as easily as humans, especially such a place teeming with magic._

 _Hardly. Bjartskular has enough magic to shift a mountain. The crystal gemstone harvests the ambient energy of the surroundings. Du Weldenvarden is simply a forest that works like a self contained biosphere._

 _You remember this, but not its name. Too much you dwell on features, not what they signify. Do you remember what Oromis-elda taught you?_

 _He taught me to hone my senses, to become one with the earth._

 _Yes, but he also taught you to realize the importance of knowing pain. Galbatorix must have shown you that there is power in names as well. Yet you have forgotten hers._

 _What are you-_

 _Don't pretend. We are bonded, you fool. I have seen your dreams, and your thoughts stray to them even in waking hours. You do not remember her name._

 _Why are we talking of matters that happened so long ago, Saphira...? Seven hundred years I have worked to forge a city beneath this mountain. I have studied the magic of the gemstone, and the power that lies within it. I have suffered through sleepless nights, and long arduous days. I do not know why you pester me with this now, but it matters not. She is likely long dead._

 _We shall see, little one. We shall see. Come now, let us not tarry longer._

The azure dragon bent her long neck downwards, and Eragon quickly climbed onto her back. Effortlessly sliding into the saddle, he took a deep breath and swept the mountain a glance. Looking solemnly at the cave that led to the heart of the mountain, he vowed to return to this place once Alagaesia realized he was not needed.

He was confident that the land had flourished without him, and he knew that he was not wanted. His name would have passed into legend, and he would be unrecognisable. Hopefully, that would allow him to sate his curiosity in peace. After that, he would return to the mountain. It was only to maintain his sanity had he decided to return to his home, but he knew that he would not belong there.

There was no one for him to go back to.

He was alone.

 _Not alone._

 _Yes...not alone._

Saphira crooned, and scraped her claws on the floor of the cave. Eragon nodded, and with a mighty clap of her wings, dragon and rider took to the skies.

Closing his eyes, he tried to enjoy the flight, denying the irritating sensation in the back of his head that all would not go as planned.

* * *

 **Du Weldenvarden**

Firnen landed near the trees surrounding Tialdari hall, the settlement of Arya's inheritance. The queen of the elves slid off smoothly, lightly touching her fingertips on the scales of the leaf-green dragon. Walking towards the doors, she pushed them open and strode towards the throne.

Elves around her bowed in reverence, and she sighed. _Is it too much to ask for someone to see me as an equal? I grow tired of this routine._

Firnen followed her through the large doors, barely fitting though the wooden structure. Arya sat down on the throne, and soon enough, an elf was in front of her. He greeted her and she returned the formality.

"What is it that you require?"

"Apologies for the intrusion, Arya Drottning, but I have been waiting here since morning. There is an urgent matter which I feel you must hearken to. A herbalist and her werecat have settled into a room in this very hall, and are requesting your presence. Quite rudely, in fact."

 _Ah yes. Angela. So much for no more surprises..._

Firnen let out a puff of smoke, and looked smug. _Finally, someone who doesnt treat you like royalty._

Arya wanted to reprimand him for broadcasting that thought to everyone in the hall, but decided to let it slide. She was getting much too cold, and the elves thought her heartless. Ignoring the smile threatening to break out across the elf's lips, she dismissed him, and stood up.

Walking towards the rooms, she went down the long hallways of Tialdari Hall, which were exquisitely designed and very visually appealing. But she wasnt looking at the beauty of the corridors. Her thoughts were on Angela the Herbalist. She only ever showed up in Du Weldenvarden when something big was about to happen. The last time she had been in the forest, was over nine hundred years ago, when Mairon had returned from the Farlands.

Biting her lip nervously, she held her hand up to knock on the door of Angela's chosen room. Just as she was about to bring her knuckles down, the door opened, and the herbalist stepped out of the room that accommodated her as well as Solembum, her werecat.

Arya was not sure what the root of Angela's immortality was, but the woman hadnt aged a day. There was an odd spark in her eyes that felt completely out of place to the queen. Firnen was gazing into the room with a single twinkling amber eye. The herbalist smiled at Firnen, and then looked at Arya, having greeted the dragon telepathically.

"So, Arya _Drottning._ Lovely day, Is it not?"

"Why are you here, Angela?"

"I decided to come and see the Agaeti Blodhren celebrations, I've heard the riders have made something exquisite!"

 _How did she-...Nevermind._

"Why are you really here?"

"Oh, dear, I'm here to watch the fireworks! You run along now, I just wanted to see the inamorata of the anguished hero..."

"What do you mean? What anguished hero?"

"Now I can't spoil the surprise, sweetheart, where is the fun in that? Anyway, here is a suggestion-..." Angela spoke with the modicum of a smile on her lips, and Arya grew increasingly suspicious.

" –You are looking for someone who will treat you as an equal, arent you? Try stooping to their level before introducing them to yours. I find an illusion is a fairly undemanding spell to cast."

And then, the Herbalist closed the door, leaving a gawking Arya only staring in confusion.

Firnen rumbled, and seemed to smile. _Well then, Arya_ _ **Drottning.**_ _What do you make of that?_

* * *

 **A/N- So, how was that chapter? Did it answer some of your questions?**

 **Eragon is just so far away from Alagaesia...It would be difficult to communicate with the mainland, especially as he settled down. And as unlikely as it seems, a thousand years is more than enough to forget the love of your life. And that time is more than enough for stories to become myths...(More on that in following chapters)**

 **He built a city, but its too far for people to come and settle...he has been busy...**

 **As for Murtagh making an appearance...he was mentioned in the second chapter, wasn't he? ;) Did you notice the reference to dragons older than Firnen? Maybe...just maybe... he's still out there...**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I am excited to see feedback so I can write the next one.**

 **PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW :)**


	4. Chapter 4- Home Again

**A/N- OMG! THE FEEDBACK IS INSANE! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, Don Flo, diabolo88000, Bilbom8, theangrychef, jim. , Elemental Dragon Slayer, Vizual-Era, Exa4ever, Brobe kyant, amberrudd33, vrael, and 2 guests! Also, ALL the 38 people who followed and the 16 people who favourited.**

 **THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Here is chapter 4!**

* * *

 **A Millennial Eternity**

 **Chapter 4-Home Again**

Saphira landed on the outskirts of the forest, with a resounding _thud_ that scared away several squirrels hiding in the trees. It had taken them more than two weeks of hard flying to reach the Spine, and then a week more to reach the rim of Du Weldenvarden. Flying east from Ceunon, they had finally reached the forest. Not one face had they seen yet.

Eragon had deliberately avoided flying low over Ceunon to prevent mass panic. He was sure there were no dragons that strayed this far out of the forest. And even if they did, none were this large. He himself barely fit onto Saphira's back. Her saddle had to be tied around with magic, as no hands were long enough to support the rope. Her wingspan was over three hundred feet, and Umaroth himself had said that she was the largest dragon he had ever seen. Dragons did not live this long, they had a habit of dying in battle, or giving up on life and choosing to live in their heart of hearts. Yet, Saphira was still intent to live out her life.

Glaedr admired her valour, and she was respected among even the older Eldunari as the greatest dragon to have ever lived. Larger than Belgabad, Wiser than Umaroth, lived through more than Glaedr...Saphira was truly a spectacle. Eragon touched the scales on her nose, and she huffed softly. Her teeth were twice his size now, and when she yawned tiredly, he touched the ivory canines. _**Are you hungry, my beauty?**_

 _ **I am famished. There is not enough food here for a dragon...The mountain had deer the size of bears, and rabbits the size of dogs. What am I to eat here?**_

 _ **You must find some food, I saw plenty of deer between Ceunon and the forest.**_

 _ **Enough for me?**_

 _ **Oh I am sure.**_

She snapped her jaws, giving a cheeky smile. Eragon smiled with melancholy as he watched her flap her wings and rise into the air **.** _ **You are my love, Saphira...**_

 _ **As you are mine, little one. Will you fly with me into the forest?**_

 _ **No, Saphira. I will meet the elves alone. If they see you, they will recognize us. I do not want that just yet.**_

 _ **Very well...**_

She took off, obviously hungry.

He was not alone...yet he felt so lonely. Was it yearning for contact, or was he losing his mind? He dare not interact with a human, no matter how old. They were children to him, and they would always be that way. Dust in the wind. He had a cousin once...but he didnt remember him. His past life was gone.

Gone was the innocent fool who knew nothing. Gone was the naive boy who had struggled to defeat the tyrant. He was stronger than he ever would have imagined himself capable of. For over five hundred years he had studied magic, learning its secrets, its power. The mountain had taught him how to control the living energy field...Use the energy from the sun, and store it into gemstones which had such an enormous magnitude of energy that they would shatter...

Together, they were truly powerful, capable of altering reality so as they pleased. The mighty azure dragon and the elegant sorcerer.

His thoughts got lost in the passage of time, when he was suddenly startled by a voice. It was a clear, firm song, like a river mourning the mountain it carved a valley through. The emotion of the words shocked Eragon for a moment, they were the first he had heard in over three hundred years that were not his own. The lilting pleasant voice made the Ancient Language more beautiful than ever...

The lyrics carried over the wind, and he let the melancholy wash over him as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

 _ **The earth is still and the skies remain silent,**_

 _ **For the hero will return...**_

 _ **Though the new age has flourished,**_

 _ **The people beg for redemption in the eyes of their saviour.**_

 _ **An eternity passes by in a heartbeat,**_

 _ **Though how much has changed?**_

 _ **Fear not the coming of a new dawn,**_

 _ **For ere the rider will return.**_

He followed the sound of the voice, and chanced upon a beautiful elf-lady, gazing down at a flower growing by the stream. She had long, brown hair, and had protruding fangs from her mouth. She was oddly familiar to Eragon, and he felt as if he had seen her before.

Not wanting to surprise her, he altered his appearance, casting a cloak over his head. He changed his eye colour to a stark blue, and dulled his ear tips, masking his features with a constantly shifting illusion. The spell was such that it would make him impossible to recognize, he looked nothing like himself.

He timidly walked up to the lady, and stood a few feet behind her expectantly. The brown-haired maiden stood up, and turned towards him. He hadnt been completely silent, he didnt want to frighten her. Unsure whether his voice would find him, Eragon took a few moments before he finally spoke.

" _Atra esterní ono thelduin._ _.."_

The elf looked at him strangely, trying to recognize if she had seen him before.

" _Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr._ _.."_

" _Un du evarínya ono varda..."_

He looked at her softly, waiting for the inevitable question.

" _Who are you?"_

He smiled, but it didnt reach his eyes.

" _I am no one..."_

" _Where are you going?"_

" _To the forest...Into Du Weldenvarden..."_

" _You should be careful...the dragons do not take kindly to strangers."_

He let a smirk slip by him, and did not respond to the warning. Instead, he chose to ask a question.

" _That song you were singing...what is it about?"_

" _You are not an elf... It is the song of the riders, the legend of the Kingkiller. The Agaeti Blodhren approaches, and magic is in the air..."_

" _I have not been in these forests for many years...I do not remember any Kingkiller..."_

" _Ah yes, the humans must have forgotten the legends of Eragon Shadeslayer and the dragon Saphira...They lived among us, one thousand years ago, when war and chaos were rampant across the land. They overthrew the tyrant Galbatorix, and freed all of Alagaesia. He departed the forest with a promise that he would return, but he never did. The riders he sent here believe that every Agaeti Blodhren, the dragons all call out for him to return...but he never does."_

Thoughts flew across his mind faster than light, and he contemplated what he had just been told. _**I...am a legend? This is not possible. I always felt that Alagaesia would have forgotten me, that my memory would fade and vanish. Yet, after a millennia, there are still songs about me. Well, I have returned to my home, and I do not intend to leave without ridiculing these outrageous stories.**_

" _Why would he return? He has nothing to return to, has he not?"_

" _I met him once, do you know? During the Agaeti Blodhren, so long ago. He was a small, scrawny little boy. I did not have faith that he would save Alagaesia, but he did. He left behind a legacy of peace and prosperity. That is what he has to return to."_

" _What is your name, elf?"_

" _Liotha. I am the cousin of the spellcaster Blodhgarm, one of the ten spellcasters who returned from the farlands seven hundred years ago."_

" _Blodhgarm? I have heard of him..."_ _ **He was my friend...**_

" _Aye. He is in Ellesmera at the moment. The celebratory preparations are going on, and Arya Drottning wants all the most powerful spellcasters in the land there."_

Eragon's blood froze, and his heart skipped three beats. A chill ran down his spine and a nervous cold sweat began to form on his brow. _**Arya...That was her name.**_

The figure from his dreams...The ghost that would call to him at night, a memory of melancholic bliss that turned inside him like a tempestual inferno.

He didnt dare breathe. He was frozen, transfixed in time. The world slowed as a torrent of memories came back to him, numbing his shattered mind. Liotha looked at him nervously, but he blinked back the semi-paralysis.

" _I apologise. The thought of meeting the queen of the elves merely shocked me, that is all."_

" _Indeed, that is a wise reaction. Many fools have tried to win the heart of the queen, but it belongs to no one."_

He nodded weakly, and turned to depart, but the elf spoke out.

" _Wait! What is your name, stranger?"_

" _I am called many things. My name is not one of them. It does not matter, Liotha the beautif_ _ul."_

She turned crimson, and was appalled at a mere human attempting to endear himself to her. Eragon almost laughed at the uncomfortable eflin lady. He called out to Saphira with his mind, and she responded quickly.

 _ **I will come, little one. Do you wish to reveal our true identities to this elf?**_

 _ **No, no, Saphira. Fly low and out of sight. I will meet you at Ellesmera. Try not to get too much attention, love.**_

Saphira mentally snorted, and Eragon felt her link growing weaker as she flew away. Looking towards Liotha, he held out his hand, and offered her a gemstone.

She took it hesitatingly, and gasped when she felt the enormous energy reserve within it.

" _Why do you give me this, stranger?"_

" _Take it as a token of goodwill. It has been so long since I have heard another voice, and I feel lucky to have heard one as beautiful as yours. Thank you."_

" _I should thank you. At least tell me your name!"_

He shook his head. _"We will meet again, Liotha. At the Agaeti Blodhren. I must be on my way now...I go to Ellesmera. I look forward to seeing you again!"_

He ran into the forest, through the old trees, into the density of Du Weldenvarden. Leaving a dumbfounded elf behind him, he had a smile on his lips as he made his way to Ellesmera.

He had a Queen to see.

* * *

 **A/N- What did you think of the chapter? Maybe it ties a few loose ends? Like the spellcasters who had left with Eragon...**

 **They obviously returned to Alagaesia... :) Homesick...**

 **Oh and yes, I did get the idea of the Bjartskular gemstone from the Arkenstone, but this one is much larger, and set into the mountain.**

 **Okay, thats all for now...expect an update within a week! :)**

 **PLEASE REVIEW! MORE FEEDBACK=FASTER UPDATES!**


	5. Chapter 5- Sleepless Nights

**A/N- Ah, what a day. What a lovely day.**

 **I am LOVING the feedback. 72 reviews is a LOT! Thank you for reviewing, Stubbsie8, Don Flo, StormRider974, Watchman1, jim. , theangrychef, Elemental Dragon Slayer, Agnafra, S, Vizual-Era, Tyler, Qves, Brobe Kyant (Ah questions questions, thank you so much for the suggestions :) I have a lot of ideas thanks to you), vrael, TenchiOtaku, melli, Naeyrs Targaryen, E.L. Girralo, Exa4ever, Rob, HomoForElmo (Your name is LOL), the unsung antihero (waiting for that PM :) ), Yodatab, VRAEL, Ryuga, Ribmurt, Mad Hatter, god, Antonio, max, ARYA PETROVA, , and ONE guest.**

 **You are all so AWESOME. I feel so nice to see that my writing is appreciated, because I always felt I have mediocre writing skills at best...**

 **Phew. Now that thats over with, here is...**

* * *

 **A Millennial Eternity**

 **Chapter 5- Sleepless Nights**

Arya had expectantly waited four weeks for the herbalist to summon her again, muddling over her words. But her patience was growing thin. The Agaeti Blodhren was in a week, and she had summoned spellcasters and riders from all over Du Weldenvarden. Surrounded by people as old and almost as powerful as her, she shouldnt have, yet she had never felt so _alone._..

She glanced outside towards the dark sky, stars twinkling with little flashes of light. The world was asleep. She stopped pacing near her window, looking up at the moon, and how its light shimmered off of the golden lily on the windowsill. _The Agaeti Blodhren draws nearer, and the few who are capable of seeing me as an equal are here, yet..._

Overseeing the proceedings, she had gotten the chance to interact with many of them, yet they were wary of her, formal to such an extent that she felt like a tyrant who her people constantly cowered from. _What have I ever done that they have become this way...?_ Even Blodhgarm, one of her oldest friends, had been nothing but excessively respectful to her. Even before he had returned from the Farlands, Arya remembered he was usually formal, but now, it was as if she was merely his queen, not an old friend.

She sighed, pacing the floor of the treehouse. Firnen slept below her, coiled around the trunk of the tree, tired from lending his magic to his gift for the celebration. All day he had worked, flying into the forest to gather _something._ He hadnt yet told her what it was, and she was curious to see what her handsome dragon would create from it.

The riders had been busy as well, making their gifts...but she hadnt yet decided what she would offer. A fairth? A poem? A sculpture? She had given all those things before. _I want to give something new. Something that will make the people open up to me. Perhaps something that shows I am not as cold as I seem. But what am I to do...I cannot think of anything that would create such an awareness. It is folly._ She bit her lip nervously, when Angela's words came back to her.

"... _Try stooping to their level before introducing them to yours. I find an illusion is a fairly undemanding spell to cast."_

Contemplating the ambiguous words, she realized what the herbalist had meant. _I don't need to be Arya Drottning...I can be whoever I desire...And they don't ever have to know._ She smiled, excited at the prospect of a double life, happy after what felt like an Eternity. She touched the lily, mirth dancing in her eyes, and she looked intio the forest beneath her, at Firnen, rumbling in his sleep. A sudden light flickered in the murky wood, and her vision narrowed. _What was that?_ She stared at it, wondering what it was, but the light vanished, only appearing for a second more. Deciding that it was not important, she lay back in her bed, still excited about her idea. Smiling into her pillow, she closed her eyes, waiting for the morn.

* * *

 **Eragon**

He lurked beneath the trees of Ellesmera, a spectre in the night. The cape and hood fluttered in the wind behind him, and he clasped them tightly near his neck. The air was fresh and cold, as only forest air is at night. Finding a place to stay would be difficult. After wandering aimlessly for more than an hour, he had been prodded by Umaroth into realizing that Vrael's tree would still be empty, as it was only for the leader of the riders.

That position belonged to him, but he felt undeserving. _I was not there to lead them, why should they have left it vacant?_

Umaroth and Glaedr had chuckled deeply, and had spoken one word which was still resounding in Eragon's head. _Respect._ He had always wanted it, but now all he felt was an impending doom at the prospect of seeing the riders again. _They do not care that I wish not for awe and admiration, do they?_

The Eldunari had growled. _No. You witnessed the elven lady fawning over the legends of Eragon Kingkiller, do you really think that they would tarnish your legacy by letting anyone stay in the Tree of Vrael?_ He hadnt replied, and had grown quiet. He walked through the woods, feeling the life pulsate around him.

He was lost. Horribly. He hadn't the faintest idea where he was, or how he was going to get anywhere else. Finding a place to stay at night would be arduous, and he didnt dare try to find Vrael's tree. He would be apprehended quite quickly. There were a few elves awake, Eragon felt their magic, but he didnt want to approach them until morning.

Utterly perplexed at his dilemma, he tapped into his powers, and felt the vast pools of energy scattered across his conscious. _I'll make my own shelter._

His force of will brought out the energy from his body, and the air shimmered with a powerful light. Controlling the excess, he reigned in the luminescence, not wanting to create a disturbance. Hoping that no elf had seen the burst of magic, he released the potent mix into the soil. The trees began to grow, the roots weaving themselves into intricate patterns. The vines wrapped themselves around each other, and branches spun a loom around the area. Within a minute, he had created a makeshift cave, made of living trees. The structure resembled a small carving into the sides of the conifers, but looking closely, it was as if they had bent down and released their growth, altering nature to shelter Eragon.

Satisfied with his work, he lay down beneath the wood, gazing out towards the moonlight dancing on the grass. A sudden dread filled his thoughts, and it was only now that he had gotten the time to re-evaluate his decision. _What am I doing here? I am not wanted. I am nothing but a remenant from a forgotten era. This land is unfamiliar to me, even though it is my home. I am a stranger, the echo of a memory._

 _Why am I here...? I have already failed once at living. Why do I insist upon trying to pick up the shards of broken relationships I cannot even remember?_

He felt alone, even though he had the Eldunari for company. They hovered in the air near him, a speck in space, hiding from the real world. They were dragons, they could never understand his situation. To them, nature took its course, and they were not to meddle with it. If it were up to them, he would still be back on Bjartskular, hundreds of leagues away.

Saphira was away, hiding in the outskirts of the elven city, waiting for Eragon to meet her. He promised himself he would see her the following morning, after going into Ellesmera to see the preparations for the Agaeti Blodhren. He contemplated visiting the Queen, but something held him back. He felt a surge of melancholy, and did not know whether that curtain had shut for good. It was something of a nonplussing scenario when Liotha had spoken her name, and he had frozen, unsure how to react.

That's all that her name gave him. _Confusion._

In time, he would attempt to reveal himself to her, but until then, he had to anguish himself over the thought of seeing her. He tried to fall asleep, but found himself restless, unable to still his mind. Saphira's calming presence would always allow him to slip into unconsciousness, but she was not there.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to throw off the shackles of his past, giving himself distractions. He focused on his disguise for the next day, thinking of what he would call himself. The Ancient Language was massive, but he could not quickly decide a name. He was burning with anticipation, feeling woefully irritated at himself for not falling asleep.

His sanity needed to remain preserved, and he had to quell that fire momentarily for its sake. Closing his eyes, he cast a spell to relax his senses, dulling them like the tide extinguishing an inferno.

He felt his mind still, and as he slipped into the void, he thought of a name for himself.

 _Arucane. The Living Fire._

He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, blissfully unaware of his fate less than a mile away...

* * *

 **A/N- I know it was kind of short, and I am sorry. Looks like people were going mad for updates, so I wrote this as fast as I could. I have final exams coming up so It'll be quite difficult to do two updates per week, But I Promise atleast one a week.**

 **So please dont stop reading, I just hope you can be a little patient. Who knows, I might surprise you with more than one update ;)**

 **Anyway, please leave a review, It really helps me get motivated to write faster. And more feedback just helps me make this a better reading experience for you as well!**


	6. Chapter 6- Morning

**A/N- I am extremely busy, so updates are very difficult, but they will happen...for you murderous people out there, I am SO sorry. My deepest apologies.**

* * *

 **A Millennial Eternity**

 **Chapter 6- Morning**

Eragon woke with a pulsing in his arms, and scrambled upwards with a gasp. The roots of the trees were twined with his wrists, slowly tugging at him. He slipped his fingers out from them, rubbing his fingers anxiously. _They were absorbing my ambient energy while I was sleeping...This forest is more alive than I ever realised...It has got an essence of deep magic which brings about an odd hyperawareness. I feel refreshed, even though I may have only slept an hour..._

He blinked back at the sunlight seeping into the tree-cave, trying to adjust his vision. Umaroth and the Eldunari were restless, waiting for him to get on the move. Saphira was probably just as on edge...He had to move fast. Taking a deep breath, he threw the cloak over himself and cast his disguise. Feeling a little mischievous, he cast a spell, tinting his eyes a yellowish orange, as if they were dying embers in a fireplace. _Arucane..._

Stepping out from the cave, he was greeted by a sword held to his face. A stray thought of recognition passed through him as he saw the raven haired elf holding his sword in his left hand. The right was gripping a dagger in his belt. Eragon squinted, trying to remember, but found himself falling short. The raven haired elf spoke, hissing in the ancient language.

" _Who are you, and what are you doing in Ellesmera? No human has gotten this far without us knowing about it."_

" _My name...Is Arucane. Who are you?"_

" _Vanir, of the royal guard. I am the Queens greatest keeper. Why are you here, Living Flame?"_

There was an underlying menace in his words, and Eragon was quick to note it. If it came down to a fight however, it was infeasible that the elf would be able to harm him. He remembered now...Vanir...His sparring partner. The elf who had taught him how to perfect his swordsmanship, and who had eventually grown to respect him.

He smiled, hoping the flames in his eyes masked the flash of recognition. The elf didnt notice, and continued his interrogation, not putting his sword down even for an instant.

Eragon suppressed a smile, and pushed the elf's sword aside with two fingers. Vanir squinted and cocked his head to the side. _"Are you here to see the Agaeti Blodhren?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Are you a rider or an elf?"_

Eragon bit his lip, weighing his options. _"I...I am neither."_

The warriors brow furrowed, and Eragon moved, faster than lightning. Two quick jabs to the temples, and the elf was unconscious in his arms. Murmuring in the ancient language, he released the magic binding the forest free, and set Vanir on the ground. Closing the elf's eyes, he whispered a memory spell, altering the details of their encounter. All that would remain was the memory of his name, and that he was not a threat.

He closed his eyes, allowing the last vestiges of energy that he had borrowed to return to the heart of the forest. The vines reshaped themselves, the trees straightened, and the earth itself seemed to hum in contentment. A bird chirped in the distance. Eragon smiled, mirth dancing through him at the wonders of life. He could see it...He could see it _all._

The aura of colour that seemed to surround everything in the place, that unidentifiable uniqueness that only the presence of elves could catalyse...

He felt a rush, and he pushed off the ground, running forward, towards Saphira...

 **Arya**

She woke with a sad smile on her lips, humming a wispy melody, floating through the air like an Elegy for her love. Setting her formal clothes aside, she wore a flowing dress, the soft silk of the fabric gliding over supple skin.

Setting her hair backwards, she pulled it away from her tresses and tied it into a single ponytail, with a few messy locks falling near her eyes. Casting a spell, she changed her eye color, and hopped down from the tree next to Firnen, who was eyeing her suspiciously.

 _What are you doing?_

 _Hush, Firnen...I am simply following Angela's advice. Maybe seeing my people as one of them will help me be a better queen._

 _You are looking for the 'anguished hero' that she was talking about, aren't you?_

Arya scoffed, biting her lip. Doubts began to swirl in her head, but she ignored them. She knew why she was doing this. She had lived for too long a boring and arduous life, and it was time to have a little time to herself, away from responsibility.

 _I am not. I simply want to be free of the shackles of being a queen for a while. I assure you that this will_ _ **not**_ _be a regular occurrence._

Firnen let out a huff of breath disbelievingly. She sighed, and walked towards the shimmering tree houses of Ellesmera. The emerald giant purred as she slid into the saddle. _Leave me on the outskirts of Ceunon..._

* * *

 **A/N- I'm looking for a co-author for this story, If anyone is interested, because I am insanely busy...**

 **So, type up the next chapter and PM it to me, and I can do a little editing and hopefully, if you guys help, then the updates can be a LOT faster...**

 **Please notify me if you want to co-write this story...**


	7. Chapter 7- Ceunon

**A Millennial Eternity**

 **Chapter 7- Ceunon**

Eragon breathed in the wintergreen air, soaring over Du Weldenvarden, Saphira's warm belly below him. Their reunion had been short and sweet, and now they were on the move, flying low. The treetops skimmed Saphira's wings as she glided over them, and as her shadow passed over the undergrowth, the deer and rabbits cowered in her wake. The Eldunari were quiet but observant, noting the path they were taking. Eragon could feel their exuberance humming through their mental bonds. _It has been so long since we have been in these woods, Saphira, must we fly so quickly?_

 _Are you nervous?_

 _Of course not, I have nothing to be nervous about._

The dragon snorted, banking left to avoid being spotted by the Ceunon watchtowers.

 _As Arucane, you don't. But as Eragon..._ she trailed off.

He slid his hands over the scales on the nape of her neck worriedly, nuzzling the azure platelets. He sighed, but said nothing. Tall treehouses peeked over the horizon, perched above a waterfall pouring down into a river below. The intricate designs of the branches intertwining pleased Umaroth's aesthetic sense greatly. _Truly marvellous craftsmanship...the entire city is upon the treetops overlooking the river, allowing the creatures below to thrive unimpaired._

Eragon's sharp elf eyes spotted a cave within the waterfall, and Saphira curled her wings in delight. Skimming the water's surface and letting out a happy bellow, she landed within the bowl-like cutout in the rocks.

Dismounting, Eragon grimaced. _You can't come with me, Saphira. Not yet..._

She growled unhappily, but set her head down on her paws and closed her eyes. Eragon smirked. _Are you pretending to be asleep now?_ She said nothing, moving her head away from him.

He smiled, stroking the bridge of her snout. _I promise, we_ _ **will**_ _reveal ourselves, but not just yet._ Not expecting anything but a snort of disapproval, his suspicions were proved to be right as she puffed a curl of blue flame.

 _Leave me the company of the Eldunari, little one, and come back quickly._ She said, not opening her eyes.

He nodded, and released the magic of the spell holding them. Sheathing Brisingr, he twisted the blade behind his back, hiding it from prominence. Casting the cape over himself, he gazed at his unrecognisable reflection in the glassy water falling in front of him. Taking a deep breath and stepping through the curtain, he looked up at the treetops.

Mustering his energy, he boosted himself upwards on a jet of air, landing gracefully near the wooden gates of Ceunon. The elves posted there glanced at him contemplatively, but let him through.

He held his breath as he went through, and was not disappointed as the view greeting him was just as pleasing to the eyes as he had expected. The canopy above him bore lanterns of sunlight that seeped through the trees, and the plateau in front of him was made of branches weaving through each other, with the trunks of the trees coming upwards through them. There were elves everywhere, densely packed throughout the houses of wood made of the forest itself. They were all busy, some of them crafting intricate fairths and some of them weaving or harvesting fruit growing on the trees. He was barely even noticed as he walked through the marketplace. _Since when did Elves have such a flourishing business?_

Ceunon had been the outpost of communication between the elves and the rest of Alagaesia even before Galbatorix, but it seemed as though during the past millennia, it had grown to become the trade outpost as well. Eragon even spotted a few dwarves and humans among the bustling crowd, all chatting about the Agaeti Blodhren. He cringed as he heard them bargaining at a few stalls selling Elvish Wine. _Is this what the world has become? Even elves have become less dignified._

He noticed the currency that passed through their hands had designs within the gold. _The mark of Surda. How much the world has changed...I hope some of the regality of the elves has remained._

He stopped at a small hut spun out of an oak tree and glanced at the elf there, who was creating a fairth. His heart stopped as he recognised the figure within it. Cherry red lips. Doe eyes. Slender nose. Rosy cheeks. Wispy, raven hair. But a cold look in her eyes..distant, unforgiving.

But this was not how she would appear in his dreams, and he felt saddened to see this pale imitation. Beautiful, but lifeless. The elf glanced up at him, and halted his work. Not even greeting him traditionally, he spoke abruptly and harshly.

"What do you want, Stranger?"

Eragon said nothing, unable to look away from the fairth. The elf sighed and motioned towards it. "You are not from here, are you, rider?"

Eragon's eyes snapped upwards, and he felt foolish. _How did he see through my disguise?_ Glancing downwards, he cursed mentally. The Gedwey Ignasia symbol was bright and prominent on his palm, glowing with magic. _The forest senses the magic within me..._

He quickly whispered a spell to mask the glow, and looked up at the elf. "My name is Arucane. You were correct, I am not from here... Who is the lady in the fairth?"

"The queen of the elves, _Arucane_. The queen of the elves...she is a cold one, she is. But she has had the hearts of many."

"Yours?"

"Nay." The elf resumed working, shifting the magic within the image.

"Why are you making this fairth, then?"

"Her lovers have never seen her close enough to remember her, yet they cannot muster courage to have their hearts crushed by confronting her. So they stare at these fairths, hopelessly in love."

Eragon said nothing, looking back at the cold beauty. _So easily she bewitches her lovers...yet she rejects them coldly._ It didnt feel right. He didnt believe that her heart was that cruel, but he could easily be wrong. He didnt remember...He _couldnt_ remember.

He nodded in farewell to the elf and turned to gather his thoughts, walking blindly through the marketplace. His mind stormy, he felt excess magic seep through him, powered by tormented emotions. Elves and humans alike scattered out of his way as he made his way backwards.

Approaching the gates, he took a deep breath and stopped. _I didnt come here to run away again._ Another thought wisped across the back of his mind, a forlorn loneliness that he couldn't avoid. _What_ _ **did**_ _I come here for?_

He didn't have an answer.

Sighing, he walked through the bustle of the gates, several people jostling around him as he struggled to move forward. He bumped into a elf in a flowing dress, and turned to apologise, but was met with piercing blue eyes. He opened his mouth, but she spoke first, formal and to the point.

"Apologies, stranger. I was distracted."

Her voice had a pleasing melody to it, but it seemed distant and quiet. _There is something off about this elf..._ He nodded courteously and smiled tightly. "Truly, the apology should be mine."

He turned to leave, but the elf seemed to be contemplating something. She stared into his eyes with a warm smile that hid her true thoughts, and he stared right back. He felt something prodding his mind, and he let it speak.

 _Who are you?...You carry a sword, yet you are in a marketplace. You leak magic as you walk, and the very forest seems to draw itself to you._ _If it were not for your lack of the Gedwey Ignasia, I would have mistaken you for a rider._

He merely smiled at her. _My name is Arucane. I come from the north._

 _Why do you carry a sword?_

 _Why is your business to know?..._

Realising they were still frozen staring at each other in the middle of the commotion, he quickly nodded and began to move away, this time towards the market, convinced that this elf would follow him to Saphira if he went back now.

She walked behind him slowly but steadily, as he stopped at a stall to admire a fairth of Ellesmera. He glanced back at her, and she continued to prod at him.

 _Have you come for the Agaeti Blodhren? Why have you brought a sword?_

He moved to the next stall, tossing an apple and catching it, looking at its sheen. _Aye, I come for the Agaeti Blodhren._

He set the apple down on the basket of fruits, and strolled onwards.

 _Are you a spellcaster?_

 _Of sorts._

He looked back at her, and she was lost in thought, trying to read him. He smirked and continued walking, reaching the oak tree he had come to before. A sudden sadness gripped him again as he glanced at the fairth of the Queen. He stopped, transfixed.

The elf strode over and stood beside him, barely even glancing at the image.

 _Oh. You are here to meet_ _ **her**_ _arent you?_

He smiled sadly, but did not reply.

She pressed on. _Why do you wish to meet her? Are you another one of her admirers?_

He let out a puff of air, feeling very much like Saphira, and grimaced. _I know what happens to her admirers._

 _She has her reasons, you know. I...was her friend once._

Eragon raised an looked down, melancholy surging through him. _So was I..._ _Of course, she wouldnt remember me._ He thought, but did not let the elf hear.

 _The queen does not have friends, Arucane and she does not want them. She has a responsibility to her people. She has better things to do than light hearted banter and drinking._

 _True_.

 _Why are you here, then, if not to serenade the queen like countless others?_

 _I told you, didn't I? The Agaeti Blodhren._

The elf was quiet for a few minutes, and then turned to walk away. _Very well,_ _ **Arucane**_ _. If that is what you say...Farewell._

Eragon glanced at her as she vanished in the crowd, not expecting her to tell him her name. Her voice did speak in his mind once more, though.

 _Perhaps we shalll meet again. Look for me in the court of Ellesmera. Good Luck for finding whatever it is you are here for._

He smiled.

* * *

 **A/N- Little does he know he has already found it. :D**

 **Sorry for the delayed updates, as usual. I really want to update as soon as I can but it's just not possible! :(**

 **Looking for a Co-Author! If you are interested, please PM!**

 **Also, REVIEW! It motivates me to write faster! :)**

 **And PLEASE, SOMEBODY offer to co-write?**


	8. Chapter 8- Crimson Veins

**A/N-Apologies...thank you all for the reviews and the PM's, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I hope less than a month? My schedule is insane...**

* * *

 **Chapter 8- Crimson Veins**

As soon as the mysterious elf was out of his mental range, he let down his iron guards. He looked at the fairth, and smiled. The harsh elf scowled at him, to which Eragon shrugged.

"May I have that?"

The elf gave him a contemptuous look, but handed over the fairth to him, and he took it into his hands, scanning over its beauty, his memories trying to come to the surface. Casting a spell, unspoken, the fairth shrunk and he kept it in his pocket. The elf held out his hand for payment disapprovingly, but expectantly. Eragon looked into the elf's eyes, and made him flinch as he searched for suitable repayment for this priceless gift. Gold and gems were worth nothing in return for the image of his loves labours lost. Scanning through the elf's thoughts, Eragon came upon the reason for his gruffness.

For all the creativity in the world, all the potential the elf had to create fairths and things of beauty, he himself felt disfigured and ugly. Eragon had not even noticed the thin scars running across the legs of the elf. Scars that had not healed, inspite of healing spells. The poison of the Crimsonwood trees, perhaps. The trees had sap that was a brilliant vermillion, which formed amber which glowed like ruby. _The carmine amber of the crimsonwood tree, as beautiful as her lips..._

The elf was an aesthete, but had scarred himself trying to obtain the heights of beauty. No magic known by elvenkind could heal the poisons effects, it was imbibed with magic as old as Alagaesia itself. _Luckily, I am no elf._

Eragon looked at the outstretched hand, and shook his head. He pointed to the elfs legs. "Show me"

The elf scoffed. " You cant help me, Stranger. Either pay me or return that fairth."

Eragon grimaced, letting his eyes flicker with irritation. The elf flinched again, but under the piercing stare, slowly rolled down the sides of his boots, revealing a patchwork of scars that looked like they were a spiders web, weaving itself around the leg. Eragon sighed, feeling the infinite pool of magic swirl inside him. Tapping into the source, he let the energy flow into his fingertips, and out onto the spiderwork. Muttering under his breath he closed his eyes, letting his magic absorb the ancient magic of the poison. The elf began to sweat and convulse, but admirably didn't cry out in pain.

Once the spell finished, the magic dissipated and the elf gasped out and took a few deep breaths as he cried out in relief at the state of his legs. They were free of the poisonous tendrils, and he looked as he had desired for so many long years. Eragon said nothing, letting the elf weep tears of joy. The market remained busy as ever, the scene not even noticed by the crowd. The elf looked up, about to speak, but Eragon shook his head again. "No. Say nothing of this to anyone." He didn't wait for a response, turning to walk towards the gates. _I wonder if that was the right thing to do...If this elf speaks of my doings to others, this disguise will not last._

Reaching the gates, he floated down on the wind, his cape fluttering behind him as he landed. Saphira snorted, and bumped her snout onto his chest. _You're late._

 _I met someone...an elf. I couldn't read her...Isn't that strange? She seemed...off._ He narrated the happenings of the morn, taking careful care not to stress too much on the fairth that he had now in his pocket.

 _You think too much, little one. Let us be off to Ellesmera, the Agaeti Blodhren awaits. You will see her again, there._

 _If you say so , Saphira._

He climbed on her back, casting a spell to cloak their presence. _Oh and one more thing, little one...Why did you keep the fairth?_

 _I wish I knew. The idea that such perfection can exist in this world amazes me...how could I ever forget her? Have I truly forgotten myself as well? Who am_ _ **I?**_

Saphira purred, and intertwined her mind with his. _You are and always will be just a farm boy, Bromsson. But then again, the greatest heroes always are just farm boys. And you are Alagaesia's hero, Eragon, embrace it! Why do we hide ourselves, it merely makes us faceless wanderers._

 _They will not understand what we've been through, Saphira! People hate what they don't understand._

 _You are never even going to give them a chance to try to see the truth about us._

 _The truth about you, is beautiful...I saw that the instant I laid eyes on you. But Alagaesia is not ready. Arucane is the chance for us to have a new life, a second opportunity for LIVING. The emotions we have given up in search for knowledge have given us an empty life. Do you not see it? We are older than the concept of_ _ **old**_ _. We have walked this land for time longer than the rise of civilisation, we have seen things beyond mortal understanding, we know of magic older than time itself! Eragon does not_ _ **belong**_ _here. Arucane does. If I can be someone who doesn't have to be bitter and old, then why cant you understand, Saphira, that once we do reveal ourselves, we will be nothing_ _ **but!**_

 _I understand, Eragon...I am sorry..._

 _It is the nature of daylight to want to shine, but once dusk falls, the living fire illuminates the path home..._

Saphira shook her wings and took off, soaring into the sky.

* * *

 **A/N-On a more somber end to that chapter, I might be quite irregular with the updates, seeing as how I am extremely busy, but that could be helped with a co-author.**

 **I know many people have asked, but I would like to see some some examples of their work, please! So if you are interested, or have asked before, please send me a PM with a paragraph or so of your writing, so I can judge who's style of writing fits in smoothly with mine. For the prompt...Eragon seeing Queen Arya for the first time, from a distance, and his thoughts on her demeanour and of course, how he would talk to her as Arucane. Just a para or few on how that would happen in your mind. I will take into consideration the ones who's style matches with mine and get back to you on that. Until then, I hope this chapter was okay...**

 **REVIEW PLEASE! FAV/FOLLOW TOO!**


	9. Chapter 9- Alexithymia

**A/N- I know I shouldnt give you such short chapters, but I worry that as the length of a chapter increases, my creativity and passion kinda dwindles...**

* * *

 **Chapter 9- Alexithymia**

She couldn't stop thinking about him. The stranger from the market. _Arucane. Was he the one Angela was speaking of?_ She ran through the trees, dress flowing behind her gracefully, her footsteps light and quick as she nearly glided through the forest. Birds chirped at her and flew alongside as she ran. _Even they treat me like royalty. Is it too much to ask for someone to see me as an equal?_

She hadn't pried into his mind, for he would have felt it instantly, but she couldn't place the Saturnine hiraeth that resonated throughout his mind. It was eerie, and alien. Whoever he was, he was not human. And his magical presence was the strongest she had ever felt. It was as if the world stood still around him, this archaic titan. He looked naive and young, but the way he spoke couldn't escape from her mind. He was much older than he seemed, so much so that even talking to him made her feel small. _He sees me as an equal, but if he knows who I truly am, will he see me the same way?_

Her feet carried her till they became sore, and when she could not go further, she stopped. Firnen had remained closeby above her, in the clouds, thoughtfully allowing her to think by herself. Dragons did not share the same quandaries over the way others treated them. There were no hierarchies among the dragons. They understood Firnen was the oldest and strongest, but they did not treat him any differently at any other time except when he would teach them. Firnen was not lonely, far from it. He couldn't understand what it was like to be surrounded by people but still feel alone. ..

She stared at the sky, gazing through the treetops, connecting with the forest around her. It was as if life itself was fulminating against her about her lack of a mate. A thousand years she had witnessed the birth and death of generations upon generations of life, but her generations never moved forward. True, she was immortal, but all elves that had fought against the black king had taken mates and started families, living for the future. She had been left behind to take care of Alagaesia, but it didn't _need_ her anymore! She could easily vanish, just like _**he**_ had, one thousand years ago, and no one would notice. It infuriated her to no end. The nagging sense of soulful emptiness was something she _could not_ explain. She knew what it was, but no one else would understand.

 _ **Alexithymia.**_

Firnen landed next to her, wings covering the trees and darkening the skies, casting a long shadow over the small lacuna within the trees she had stopped in. _Arya, we must go back to Ellesmera, the people await, the celebrations must commence._

 _I just don't know if it's possible..._

 _Possible for what?_

 _For me to love them and be their queen concomitantly. It's not in their nature to do anything but quail at who I am and the power I command. But...I met a stranger, while I was in disguise._

She recounted the happenings of the marketplace to Firnen, who seemed as curious about Arucane as she was. The mighty dragon huffed and snorted smoke. _He seems awfully pretentious. Are you sure he didn't see through your disguise?_

 _Hardly possible. Our magic is too strong, even for someone like him._

 _Do not underestimate him. He may be dangerous. Did you give him your name?_

 _No...I have not thought of one._

 _Perhaps that will give your disguise some much needed verisimilitude._

 _Indeed._

She gazed around the forest, trying to think of a name. Her eyes fell upon a cerulean blue lily, growing near the roots of the Delois' plants.

 _Loivissa. The blue lily._

Her disguise had blue eyes, a sharp contrast to Arucane's burning pools. _Ice and Fire. I quite anticipate meeting that stranger again, Firnen, he was not like anything we've seen here for a very long time._

Firnen rumbled in agreement, as he bent down to allow Arya to climb on his back. Her eyes changed back to a deep earthy green, as her dress morphed back to her formal attire. She sighed with dread at the thought of taking her place in Tialdari hall once more, with the upcoming celebrations, her responsibilities only increased.

Her time as Loivissa was like a fairytale, short as it was, but it was time to be Arya Dröttning once more. The denouement of her time in a dream had begun, giving way to aeonian emptiness. She breathed a weary sigh, and prepared herself for a day of prosaic routine.

* * *

 **A/N- Apologies for any mistakes, I wrote this chapter in a hurry, because I wanted to give you all a quick treat before my board final exams start, which is TOMORROW. (Panic attack commences)**

 **Thank you all for bearing with me, please dont unfollow or anything, this will eventually get done. I dont just leave things unfinished, anyone who has read my other story knows (horrible in the beginning, I had just started writing) that I will get things done eventually :D**

 **PLEASE REVIEW! I WILL BE BACK BY THE END OF THIS MONTH, HOPEFULLY! I HOPE THAT THERE WILL BE TONS OF REVIEWS FOR ME TO READ! :D**

 **(Also, please PM if interested in becoming co-author, details are at the end of last chapter)**


	10. Chapter 10- Unrequited

**A/N- Apologies for the thousandth time :P Better late than never please?**

* * *

Chapter 10- Unrequited

Mairon fiercely jabbed and slashed at his sparring partners guard, wearing down the younger rider with a ferociousness and sick concentration that to the untrained eye, looked completely impeccable. His mind, however, was tempestuous. _Arya Drottning had not smiled for decades on end. That exquisite sculpture that the younger riders had desired to make sparked something in her demeanour._ He effortlessly parried his opponents strikes and disarmed the weaker human with a push of magic.

Saying nothing, Mairon pulled the babyish human up and shook his head. "Again."

They continued trading blows, his mind still distracted. _Why does she not see that I did not want to disturb her past? I did not want to create the image of her with that old_ _ **fool**_ _._

Angrily, he sliced down his sword with a savage brutality that got the other riders staring at him. This was very unlike his usual fluid and beautiful fighting style. The level of control required to create beauty out of the art of swordplay was beyond him today, no matter how much he tried. _What is this_ _ **anger**_ _that gives me power so? What am I really frustrated at? Her unwillingness to show the sculpture to the public? Or the fact that it made her smile?_

The other rider, who was now cowering, scrambling backwards on his behind, yelled out. "Stop! Stop! Please!"

Mairon blinked, looking down at his almost whimpering opponent, and stepped back in shock. "I...I'm so sorry." He pulled him up, apology in his eyes. " _Waise Heill"_ he slowly moved his palm across the bruises on the human's hands.

Sheathing his sword, he glanced around at the surrounding riders, who were nervously gripping their swords. They had seen him have a breakdown before, but it had never been this severe. He sighed, scrunching his brow and walking towards the open field in the other direction. Calling out with his mind, he waited for the sound of thundering wings.

 _Eragon-elda was foolish to never return to her. She has been broken beyond repair, a ghost of the person she once was._ Mairon had been to Bjartskular and back to complete his training, fifty years of torture, and had come back to see Arya's spirit drained. As time went on, it simply waned away even more, as his own feelings for her waxed on. His love for her only grew stronger as her own love for life wasted away. He longed to tell her, but she only ever saw him as a student. _Not even that. I train the other riders now, but I will never be her equal. I am caught between hierarchies and ghosts of her past._

He exhaled sharply, realising why he was so frustrated. _She will never move on until she knows that he has._ He looked up, seeing the beat of black wings above him. " _We need to go, Melkor"_

The dragon grunted, and bent down to allow Mairon to climb into the saddle. _I need to give her freedom from this unrequited hope._

* * *

 **Eragon**

They _had_ to find a place to sleep. The sun was setting, and the cloaking spell that he had cast over Saphira was draining his strength. Urging her downwards, Eragon used more energy to cloak her completely as they flew towards the capital, flying over it. He looked downwards with a wistful smile, adoration in his eyes. This was _the_ city. The machines of industry and the magic of the riders had restored Ellesmera beyond its past glory...

Towering buildings of stone and metal rose like monoliths across the valley, entwined with the forests. Nature and infrastructure working together like symbiotes to create a vivid sense of contrast yet admixed into each other to create unparalleled beauty. _Unparalleled by anything inanimate. For anything sentient, the greatest beauty lies in her eyes._

 _Scintillating emeralds that could peer into your soul..._

He shook his head as he focused on the horizon, rather than having a dalliance in his mind with his forgotten passions. His eyes brimmed over with tears as great cliffs rose in front of them, deserted but for a shrine at their edge. A wave of sadness swept over him, coming from the Eldunari. _Glaedr._

The golden shrine on the Crags of Tel'naeír...

Saphira landed beside the shrine, bowing her head down before the beautiful construction. There were intricate carvings of the war set within the gold, and between the carvings was a small opening. Saphira touched her snout to the gold below the opening, eyes closed in remembrance. Eragon dismounted and looked inside the opening, and pursed his lips when he saw what was in it. A fairth of Oromis.

Gazing at it for a few moments, Eragon allowed memories to come back to him, and he was overcome with grief. Pulling himself back to the present yet again, he touched Saphira's wings, comforting himself against their velvet touch. She rumbled, and the Eldunari sent waves of sympathy towards him.

He exhaled sharply, wiping away tears brimming at his eyes. "Right then."

Looking around, he saw the area deserted. The riders had newer training grounds and no one had been there for ages. _Oromis' hut is empty, little one. But can we occupy his home so readily? It was never ours._

Glaedr rumbled a response. _I think in the situation you are in, he would have wanted you to._

Eragon smiled weakly, and entered into the hut, promptly collapsing on the floor in exhaustion. _Goodnight, little one,_ Saphira rumbled.

* * *

 **A/N- Not my best, but hope it satiates you for a while. Next update will be faster than previous one. Hopefully within the next week or two.**

 **REVIEW PLEASE! I THANK ALL OF YOU WHO REVIEWED AND READ THIS STORY! AS FOR CO-AUTHOR, I have gotten a number of people in PM's offering to assist, but I cant decide who would best suit my style of writing, so...if you're truly actually interested, then please PLEASE send in a small excerpt of your writing. I'll give you the prompt too, so it'll be easier to match with mine. [Eragon see's Arya as queen, but in disguise, at the Agaeti Blodhren celebration, and speaks with him] Please be as creative as you want, and I'll see who's thought process is like mine ;) (Oh and no pressure, it doesnt have to be too long, and if you dont want to use this prompt, its fine, any other Eragon/Arya situation with the conditions in this story are good-as in, 1000 year separation) THANK YOU SO MUCH!**


	11. Chapter 11- Gifts

**A/N- Hey guys! Here's a treat! Slightly longer chapter and pretty quick too! All thanks to the talented ReviewMaster52497, who has helped this update come much MUCH sooner than usual :D**

 **Anyway, Hope you like it!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11- Gifts**

 **Arya**

Arya let Firnen work hard at his gift for the Agaeti Blodhren all throughout the evening, while she stayed in Tialdari hall, overlooking the beautification of the royal palace. She could not bear the insufferable servitude and subjugation that her people treated her with. Every guest that had come from near and far, all had knelt before her and were unable to look her in the eye, no matter how old or wise they were. Rhunon-elda had merely bowed, but even she had not looked her in the eye. _They are afraid of me, but_ _ **he**_ _was not._ She thought to herself. _But he did not know who I was. What does that matter? He is still like nothing I have ever seen before. Neither rider nor elf._

She decided she _had_ to meet him before the celebration, otherwise he would vanish. Of that, she was sure. He did not seem the type to partake in the celebrations. _Why is he actually here?_

"My queen?"

She was broken from her thoughts by the spellcaster kneeling before her. "Blodhgarm, do not kneel. Speak."

"Iduna and Neya wish to speak to you." _The caretakers._

"Let them in."

 _Serenity._ That was what the twin caretakers usually portrayed an image of. Peace and power. When they entered, however, they had panic on their faces. They greeted Arya as custom and quickly began to undress, revealing the iridescent dragon tattooed across their skin. Before she could question the purpose of this, they spoke. "My queen, there is powerful sorcery at work The dragon senses this. The enchantment has awoken even before the celebration...!"

As they spoke, the rainbow dragon within their skin opened its eyes, shaking its whole body as if after a deep slumber. Arya's eyes widened as the spectral form of the arcane dragon broke free from their skin, spreading its wings above the throne upon which she sat. It looked into her eyes, and she felt goosebumps across her arms and a chill went down her spine. _The memories of the race of dragons in living form, awoken every hundred years, at the time of the blood oath._

It hummed with power, moving forward towards her, and she nearly flinched. Iduna and Neya were on their knees, heads bowing down in reverence. _Reverence to whom?_

The dragon lifted its front limb, long claw outstretched and pointing towards her. It brought the claw down slowly near her, touching her forehead. A burst of magic echoed around the hall, and Arya gasped out as images flew through her mind. _Its...beautiful._ A rose in bloom. The moon as it waxed and waned. The growth of the Menoa tree, from a sapling to a giant. She _felt_ _ **life.**_ Velvet fabric beneath her. Deep brown eyes like pools of molten bronze. The soft touch of lips upon hers.

The smell of rose and petrichor permeated through her nostrils, enhancing the visual poetry with an additional sense. Her hands dug into the throne, leaving dents.

The images turned dark. A bronzed hair elf stood within ruins, his sword alight with black flames, devastation around him. She gasped out as he lifted the sword, about to attack her with it. She could not see his face, but his eyes glowed a sickly orange, and looked _broken._

The heat from his sword grew unbearable as he raised it above her menacingly, the moment before he made contact, however, he vanished, leaving her staring at a new scene. She knew this place, though it looked unfamiliar. A massive city, rocks overhanging above it. Suddenly, there was a blinding white light that radiated from the overhang, followed by a concussive blast of sound. When the light cleared, she was sitting upon Firnen's back, circling a lone ship on the waters below them. Firnen uttered a mournful cry, and she felt an overwhelming amount of grief, sorrow, longing, and other emotions she could not, or would not, identify.

When Arya returned to her own body, she realized she had tears flowing down her face, and she quickly wiped them away, sniffing as she forced herself to regain control over her emotions. She knew what she had to present for the Agaeti Blodhren.

The twins panted as the magic returned to their bodies, the dragon still awake, albeit upon their skin. Arya stood up quite suddenly, flustered. " _Please leave, Blodhgarm, Iduna, Neya"_

Blodhgarm rose an eyebrow, but said nothing, as they bowed and exited the room, letting her contemplate. _What did those visions mean? Why was I shown this?_ She remembered the elf with the flaming sword, ruins around him. _It is a warning. Something is going to happen, and the dragon knows this._

 _What I will present for the celebration was shown_ _ **to**_ _is a_ _ **gift.**_

She held her hand up to her face _._ touching her lips softly, electricity still flowing through them at being touched by someone else's. She felt blood rush to her cheeks. It had been centuries since she had touched anyone but Firnen. It was as if magic itself had flown through her at that instant, and had set her body aflame. Suppressing her thoughts, she swallowed, her mouth dry and parched.

Firnen landed near the entrance of the room, looking through the doorway with a glowing eye. _What happened, Arya?_

She took a deep breath, walking towards the doorway, and mounted up on the dragon's back. _Let us go home, I will explain as we fly._

* * *

 **Eragon**

 _Eragon!_ Saphira shouted into his subconscious, rousing him from his waking rest. _Someone approaches._

Eragon muttered a mild oath, throwing the blankets off of him and quickly murmuring the spells of illusion to transform himself once more into Arucane. He straightened his tunic, and adjusted his belt when Saphira spoke again, _As fine as you look, if you wait another ten seconds, our guest will not only see your great beauty, but also an enormous dragon sitting behind you._ Her words were teasing, but urgent.

Eragon swore again, and a voice called out from just beneath the ledge of the cliff, "Who defiles this sacred place with such foul language?" Reprimanding himself mentally for being heard, Eragon wordlessly cloaked Saphira. Mere moments later, an elf rose up into his view, standing on nothing but air. The elf moved forward, llanding gracefully on the edge of the cliffs.

The elf, like so many others, rang a faint, hollow bell of recognition within Eragon's mind. A dim reminder that at one point, somewhere, Eragon his met this person before. His lustrous brown hair was short, tufty. He looked rather young for an elf, but his eyes bespoke an insight that many youth didn't possess. A black sword sheath was belted to his waist, his hand resting upon the pommel of the hilt. His other hand pointed at Eragon, and he asked, "Who are you, to presume entrance to the Crags of Tel'naeír? Do you seek to dishonor the memory of the great master who lived here? Or are you simply arrogant enough to believe that you may lay your head in any house you come across? This place is not for you to pollute, stranger."

Eragon smiled as Saphira's memories flowed into him. _A brash young elf, determined to finish his training as quickly as any had ever done. His problem with patience had been the very reason that it took him a rather unusually long time to learn some of the more basic precepts of being a Rider. Often accusatory, though carefully polite._ Eragon knew this elf. Mairon by name, hot-headed by nature.

He could feel Mairon's mind pressing against his own, simply establishing it was there and making sure Eragon knew he was being watched. "Is this not a beautiful view?" Eragon asked, gesturing off the edge towards the rising sun. "There's so much pulchritude you can see if you open all your eyes beyond accusing strangers seeking refuge. I for one, have opened many."

Mairon scoffed, "I don't know how many eyes you think you have, but I only see two, and they won't be gazing at such a majestic sight again. You're coming with me."

Eragon clasped his hands together behind himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Excellent!" He smiled, trying to make the elf uneasy. "Where shall we be going?"

Mairon's eyebrows narrowed, clearly frustrated by the lack of opposition. _He meant to fight me!_ Eragon had to suppress a laugh at this notion, and the elf brusquely turned and hovered in the air once more. "We're going to see the queen. Try to keep up." And with that, he disappeared over the edge.

Eragon grinned. _This is going to be fun._

He ran forward and threw himself off the ledge, free-falling past the slowly descending elf. He pulled his arms together, streamlining himself to reach an astonishing speed. Just as he was about to crash into the tops of the trees, he cast a spell to slow his descent, landing effortlessly on a branch. He navigated past the canopy, settling on a large, gnarled root near the foot of the tree.

Mairon was not far behind him, but he was clearly becoming more displeased with how frivolously Eragon was treating this escort. The elf landed beside him, irked. He clearly thought there would be severe consequences in store, and wanted Eragon to feel the fear he thought was appropriate.

"You ought to be more careful. It would be a shame for you to die before the queen can get answers for why you were trespassing here." The elf spoke over his shoulder, beginning the long walk back to the city, expecting Eragon to follow.

He did so, walking right up next to Mairon, taking extra care to nudge his elbow. "How about I _tell_ you, that way, if something were to happen to me that you couldn't prevent, you'd be able to relate my transgression to the queen without a blemish in your account." Mairon stiffened at the not-so-subtle jab at his ability to defend himself and his charge from whatever might be lurking in the forest. The elf grew increasingly more irritated at the twinkle in Eragon's eyes.

"I don't foresee that being necessary, but do as you wish."

"Well, you see...I was searching for inspiration as to what I should bring to the Agaeti Blodhren. I saw the wall of rock as an opportunity to see over the tops of the trees. Imagine my surprise that this place would have been here at the top! Whoever it was that constructed and dwelt in this hut must've been quite appreciative of beauty in all its forms."

Mairon suddenly turned to face Eragon, "You blasted fool!" he snarled. "This was the home of one of the greatest Riders to ever live! Oromis wasthe last great rider after the fall! without him, we could not have rebuilt our order. The fact that he was slain, leaving us with the great ' _Eragon'_ who chose to abandon Alagaesia is one of the greatest tragedies to ever befall us. Now, to train the new riders, we must rely upon the information from the few dragons who aren't mad with the grief that the black king's terrible reign poured out upon them. You would do well to remember that there are powers in this world you cannot even _comprehend_. The golden age of the riders had such powers, but neither you nor I will ever witness them."

With that, Mairon turned and continued into the forest, leaving a rather stunned Eragon rooted in place. _They gave up on me. I made them give up on me._ Sadness swelled in him, but he had little room for more of it. He shook his head, then jogged to catch up to Mairon. "So you're a Rider then, like the queen?"

Mairon's demeanor seemed to soften at this. "Why, yes. My dragon, Melkor, was hatched to me over a century ago. One of the most magnificent beings to ever live."

Eragon smiled at the tenderness of Mairon's personality when it came to his dragon. It mirrored exactly how he felt about the great opportunity Saphira had bestowed upon him with her choice to bond with him. "Where is he, then?"

"Hunting."

There was no more conversation on the way back into town. A simple muttered word here, or a comment there. As they walked through the streets, Eragon noticed people that they got close to looked at them, then backed away into shadows or houses. He was confused, until he opened his mind to try and see if there was something going on that they had to attend to. That's when he noticed Mairon casting out a thought for all to hear; _Do not approach. This one is to be taken directly to the queen. Interference will not be tolerated._

Eragon smiled again, amused at the young elf's desire to be seen as one with authority.

They wound through streets, every elf, human, and dwarf avoiding them like the plague. The Urgals, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less. _It seems even after they're bound, they will still seek a battle over even the simplest of affronts._

As they neared Tialdari Hall, Eragon froze. He felt _her._ Her mind was pulsating with frantic turmoil, trying to calm itself down. _Does she know I'm here?!_ Panic coursed through him, and he reinforced his mental guards, shielding them from perception. _No. No. No._ He couldnt see her. Not yet. He wasn't ready. His body nearly convulsed with anxiety, his eyelids twitching at even being near her mind. _I have to get out of here._

When Mairon entered the outermost door, Eragon cast several spells. A few to conceal him, one to allow him to float, so he wouldn't make footprints, and another to soothe his stormy thoughts. Then, he disappeared. In the time it took Mairon to walk through the doorway and turn to make sure his charge was still with him, Eragon saw the bewilderment grow upon his face at the sudden disappearance of his prisoner, and had to stifle a laugh as the poor elf ran about, searching high and low for him.

As Eragon left, flying back towards the Crags of Tel'naeír, he debated upon what he should bring with him as a gift for the Agaeti Blodhren. When he would be ready to see her. It had to be something special. Something she wouldn't expect from a stranger from the north. _Eragon cannot face her, but Arucane can. That is the gift I will proffer...something that will make her remember._

Through his mind flashed several pictures from Saphira, ending on a massive slate wall. Eragon grinned. _That should do just fine..._

* * *

 ** _A/N-_ Thanks for all the reviews and feedback, it is much appreciated! The flattering reviews really overstate how good this story is, and I cannot believe people actually like it as much as they do. Thank you all so much!**

 **(Oh and I may have found a potential co-author, so hopefully that means quicker updates ;) )**


	12. Chapter 12- Remember Laughter?

**A/N-Hello everyone! Thank you for all the reviews and support, and I am delighted to announce that I have officially chosen a co-author for this story- The talented** ReviewMaster52497!

 **They have helped a great deal on this chapter and thanks to them there is quite a bit of length to this update! So hopefully, this means more frequent updates, and longer chapters. :D**

* * *

 **Chapter 12- Remember Laughter?**

 **Arya**

Mairon paced back and forth, his voice not tempered being in the presence of his queen as he ranted about this stranger he had found. Arya found it to be a rather amusing disruption from the dull day-to-day proceedings of the courts of the elves. A never-ending parade of compliments, known by her to be nothing more than single moves in games that she couldn't even remember the beginning or cause of. She had known nothing but these politics since the day she was born, and it pleased her to have such a brisk change of pace when something like this disrupted the circadian placidness that permeated Tialdari Hall.

"I just don't know where he could have gone! He was right behind me, and the next moment he was not! Vanished! He couldn't have _dissappeared_ like that! There's no way a _human_ like him, not even a _Rider_ , could accomplish such a feat!" Mairon slammed his fist into the wall, producing several cracks. "Where did he _go_?!"

Sensing he was on the brink of becoming uncontrollable, Arya interjected, waving her hand nonchalantly to repair the cracks. "Is it possible he's still within the city?"

The elf turned to face her, "If he is still here, he will have returned to the Crags. He wouldn't dare to stay within the city, not when he knows the riders are looking for him. I will go and find him at once. And this time I will _bind_ him.

"No. _I will go._ " Arya said, standing and straightening the dress she wore. Mairon stepped back, flinching. He didn't expect her to interfere in such trivial matters, but it seemed as if she was curious about the stranger. Arya could see his speculations on his face, eyebrows pressed together, lips pursed, eyes looking downwards in thought. She spoke, and he glanced back up at her. "If he _has_ returned to the Crags, he will flee at the sight of you, or might even have a more _violent_ response. And this way, he doesn't have to be hauled back here. Firnen and I have not been there for quite some time. It will be nice to see their beauty again."

"My Queen! What if he tries to attack you?" Mairon asked, panic flashing in his eyes. He grew quiet and looked down, promptly realizing his rudeness.

 _A curious emotion from someone who is so sure of himself. He wishes to protect me, even though my power is far greater than his._ "Could you defeat him in battle?"

"Of course I could!" He paused, and Arya could see he wanted to ask something he should not. " Do you question my prowess as a fighter?" He seemed affronted, but this was incivility at its height to question her as such.

"Do you question mine?" Arya asked quietly. He stared blankly at her, unsure how to respond. She was used to sycophantic behaviour, but this outburst in anger from Mairon was not his first, but was his most vehement. He usually apologised a great deal after his temper had diminished, thus she chose not to let his rudeness affect her. "When was the last time you bested me...?"

Mairon seemed to realize just how poorly he had executed this conversation. "My apologies, my queen. I did not mean to offend you. I only ask that you would allow me to come with you. There's no reason to not be overly cautious."

"I think not." Arya spoke slowly, choosing her words with great care. "Your mind is too clouded on this issue, and I would not like to reprimand you in front of this stranger. There are many young riders on the training grounds that need your attention. Please see to them, and allow me to handle the duties of the state."

Mairon bowed saying, "Of course. Your decisions, as usual, are ideal."

 _Is he mocking the sycophantic public? Or is he mocking me?_ If he was, he was very careful. She could not detect any sarcasm in his voice, and his eyes betrayed no emotion. "Very well. You are dismissed." He left the hall, his footsteps resounding with disappointment.

* * *

 **Mairon**

He hadn't allowed himself to ever get so worked up in front of her before, and bitter regret seeped into his heart as he walked away from the hall. Something about this _Arucane_ drove him to extremes he hadn't known existed in his emotions...something about him seemed so _wrong._ _Unconventional. Odd..._

Melkor's voice echoed in his head. _It was not wise to insinuate that the queen would need anyone besides Firnen to protect her. She is a proud one._

 _I know that._ Mairon growled. _I just wanted to show her that I'm willing to do things for her that she need not do herself! I want her to see that I can give her anything she desires!"_

 _Perhaps, but there's no reason that you would need to be chauvinistic in your approach. That is a trait best left for humans to display._

 _As usual, I am still on the wrong side of the fence._ Mairon ended their conversation there, blocking out everything but the thinnest stream of feelings. He sighed wearily, trudging on through the forest. He was in no mood to talk or to be around anyone, too upset with how this day was turning out. He thought he'd be given praise at this point for his initiative in bringing the trespasser to Arya, but now he was shunned and ousted from his freedom to patrol the city and being sent to train the younglings. Again.

Rather than go to the training grounds, as Arya had suggested, he instead let his mind wander, his legs taking him through the forest, not sure where they were heading.

* * *

 **Eragon**

Eragon stood on the edge of the Crags, looking over at the horizon,letting the beauty of the surrounding forest and the life that flowed from its every corner wash over him like a soothing river. He turned on his heel and strode back over to where he had been working. Many slabs of slate were laid out on the ground outside Oromis' hut. _Fairths for the Agaeti Blodhren._ A few had depictions on them of various people; Angela, Islanzadi, Arya, Murtagh, Oromis, Glaedr. Most were still completely blank, but the rest contained scenes of landscapes that few still remember. Eragon was only able to recreate them with Saphira's help, her memories filling in the gaps of his.

There was one of Du Weldenvarden seen from far above, clearly through the eyes of a dragon. One of the elves' raid on Ceunon. One of Farthen Dur and Tronjheim. One of the Star Rose. The war of the Burning Plains. The Ra'zaac. The citadel at Uru'baen. All of them told a tiny portion of the story that was the greatest three years of Eragon's life. 15 through 17...He had been so naive and young, so full of optimism and hope.

 _Look at what time does...I am old and world weary now, a stranger to the land I once called my home._

The fairths together showed the most powerful stories of his , they would weave an elaborate tale of pain, joy, loss, triumph, love won and love unrequited. He could see no other gift that would properly keep alive his feelings for the land that he had left so long ago and had thought of every day since. He still had much to do, as there were many more blank slates than there were filled ones. Worry passed through his mind. _Is there enough time?_ There wouldn't be time before the celebration began, but maybe he could miss the beginning in order to finish his work. _Perhaps Arya will remember as well..._

* * *

 **Arya**

She walked away from her throne and stood in front of the mirror she used for scrying. Murmuring the spell, a picture of Blodhgarm's home filled the glass. He was not present, and she absent mindedly dusted imaginary dust off of her dress. Waiting patiently, her mind wandered to the stranger on the Crags. _It was obviously Arucane._ _Why has he taken refuge in sacred space? Surely he must know..._ Blodhgarm came in view, his fur bristling. He bowed, "My queen. How may I assist you?"

She lost her train of thought, focusing on the matter at hand.

"Blodhgarm, I must attend to something. I need you to come here and hold the throne for whoever might wish to speak with me. I will be gone for at least a couple hours." Arya hoped he wouldn't question her motives. He seemed to understand that she wouldn't appreciate his prying, and she pursed her lips pensively.

He merely inclined his head and said, "As you wish. I'll be there shortly." She waved her hand, ending the spell. and then exhaled tiredly.

As soon as the blue-furred elf arrived, Arya left and went to her personal chambers to change her clothes. The dress was for formal wear, her entertaining of nobles and anyone who wished to discuss matters of the state. However, she preferred her jerkin and leggings, she couldn't run in her dress. _Besides, I'll go as Loivissa, she has met Arucane before, and it will arouse less suspicion._

As soon as she had left the leafy corridors of Tialdari Hall, she headed for the woods. Once she was sure she wasn't being watched, she cast her spells of deception to disguise herself. As Loivissa, she broke into a sprint, heading towards the Crags. It felt good to finally be a little wild. As she ran through the trees, jumping over roots and dodging past the various wildlife, she felt as if there was so much more to life that she had been missing out on. A deer looked up at her through the trees as she ran, snorting out as she blew past it. _I am alive..._

She couldn't even remember the last time she had held a sword, drawn a bow, or even the last time she had been outside the forest. Her thoughts grew distant and melancholic, the landscape blurring by her.

With her thoughts drifting, she came upon the cliff that marked the end of her journey quicker than expected. She looked up, and prepared to utter an ascension spell. _Why bother? I am not Queen of the Elves. I can get my hands dirty._ She contemplated using magic to ease her ascent but decided to do things the _fun_ way. She bent down and picked up some dirt, which she rubbed between her hands to give them some more traction. Then, she clawed into the rock face, creating a hand sized hole. Propping herself on that with her feet, she began climbing. Hand over hand, she slowly ascended the hundreds of feet up to the top. About halfway, she stopped, her body aching for a brief respite. She used magic to soothe her blistered hands and aching muscles, and looked out, admiring the sun as it glistened off the dewdrops still in the afternoon air.

As she began climbing again, she was able to feel enormous amounts of magic seeping out from over the top of the cliff. _Arucane._ She recognised his unique presence, strong and _powerful._ Shielding her mind, she quickly worked her way up the last fifty or so feet, coming to stop just below the edge. She cast a spell to pull the rock face out a little underneath her so she could stand on the ledge and peer over it. _It was_ _ **him**_ _after all..._

Arucane stood with his back to her, staring at something on the ground. She couldn't see much from where she was, but it looked like he was extremely frustrated with whatever it was that he was working on.

Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she cloaked herself with spells of invisibility and crept up over the edge. Standing a mere fifteen feet behind him, she could see that there were dozens, if not hundreds, of slate slabs laid out before him, each with a fairth of ages long past. He had his eyes closed and was lost in thought, muttering something inaudible as he shaped the images within the slate. The incredible beauty and detail in them astonished her. _How could he have seen these things? There are very few elves who still live that had seen the wars of so long ago. Even fewer who know Angela or Grimmr Halfpaw...who is he, really?_

As she marveled at his creations, his lips pressed together, and he opened his eyes. She was about to jump back down to her ledge but she remembered her cloaking spells. Nevertheless, she held her breath as he gazed upon the slabs, trying to etch out every detail with determination and focus. Her breath faltered as she saw a bead of sweat forming upon his brow. _This is a man with a drive. The faiths serve some purpose, clearly,_ _ **but what?**_

Lost in thought as to what that might be, she failed to notice that he had turned and was looking right at her, mirth dancing in his eyes. They peered into her very soul, and she couldnt help but flinch. She felt _naked._ Quickly strengthening her mental shields, she worriedly hoped that he couldnt actually see her.

"You don't have to hide." Arucane's voice echoed through the clearing. "I mean no harm to any living being."

 _How...?_

He looked at her and winked, as if answering her unspoken question with a refusal to dignify it with a response. "You can come out now." As he said this, he reached out and took a few of her stray hair, holding them between his fingers, smiling. "Hello."

Arya uncloaked herself, a blush rapidly spreading across her face. _How foolish must I look?! I must have cast those spells in haste!_

"What are you making?" she asked aloud.

"Is it not obvious? They are fairths." He raised an eyebrow.

"Allow me to rephrase. What are they for?"

"I believe it is customary to produce a gift for the Blood Oath, is it not? Since I have no notable talent that can be displayed without a great deal of suspicion being cast on me, I have instead chosen to give of my own knowledge, and that of knowledge given to me. These, when finished, should accurately display the wars that came to pass, leading to the renewal of the pact with the dragons, as well as the peace the land has had since." Arucane gestured to the fairths laying behind him. "These are but a small portion of what I will have done by the time the Agaeti Blodhren commences."

Arya studied him for a moment before asking, "How is it that you know of this? Are you not a stranger to these lands? You say you came from the north, and Du Weldenvarden is the furthest north of all of Alagaesia."

Arucane's eye twinkled as he responded, "I travel. Besides, there are many other methods of acquiring knowledge."

Arya sighed, almost rolling her eyes. _It feels good to converse like this, as_ _ **equals.**_ "You sound just like her." She pointed at the fairth of Angela and Solembum in his cat form rubbing up against the side of her leg.

Arucane laughed. "Yes, I can see why that answer would seem like one of hers. I have gotten similar responses from her many times myself."

"So you know the herbalist? Was she the one that told you of these things?"

Arucane shifted, "Some of them. This work is merely something compiled by me, not necessarily out of any one source." _He is hiding something, but that is obvious._

Arya nodded, content for now with what she had learned of him. "I heard that you had some trouble with one of the locals, by being here."

The sparkle returned to his eye as he chuckled, "Oh yes, he was quite displeased that I would be bold enough to seek refuge in an abandoned house, far from causing anyone any sort of displeasure."

"I think he was more concerned with preserving the memory of those that used to live here." _He_ _ **has made**_ _a fairth of Oromis and Glaedr, more accurate than any I've ever seen. In fact, I am almost sure he would have seen them with his own eyes._ She looked at him expectantly.

Arucane contemplated this for a moment before slowly asking, "Possibly, but if the ones that used to live here still lived, would they turn away a weary traveler seeking rest as he prepared for the upcoming celebration?"

Arya smiled, "No, I think quite the opposite. Tell me, have you ever heard the tale of Oromis and Glaedr?" She looked at his face, waiting for a mistake or nervous tic that would reveal his secrets.

His eyes suddenly unfocused, pulling backwards, as if seeing more than just her. It was as if he was looking at the entire universe at once. It was as if he was diving into a well of thought, trying to retrieve some long lost memories. _Those eyes. They are old eyes. Very old._

 _He most definitely had met Oromis-elda. That much is clear as his teeth are._

 _But that would make him..._

Arucane smiled back, suddenly "No, I don't think I have. I know the names, and if I'm not mistaken, they were dragon and Rider, were they not?"

"Dragon and Rider, yes. But they were so much more. Compatriot, teacher, elder, council, confidant, warrior, artist. All of these titles would have applied to them both. Their story begins when Oromis was eighty-two years old, and the dragon Glaedr hatched for him…"

She began telling the story, and he listened eagerly, but his eyes betrayed the truth. He already knew this.

 _Older even than Firnen._..

* * *

 **Eragon**

Eragon was enraptured with this strange elf maiden who had sought him out seemingly of her own accord. She was beautiful, but she also appeared to have wisdom beyond the years that her youthful face portrayed. Her mind was open, but it was cold, shut off at most places. It was like a sealed fortress that invited guests but trapped them if they ventured in places they shouldn't. She continued narrating the story, as he studied the beauty in her eyes, specks of emerald within the deep blue. He hung onto every word that dropped from her lips as she wove a tale of great adventure that had taken Oromis and Glaedr from apprentices to Riders, from Riders to teachers, and from teachers to keepers of the final secrets of their order, which they had imparted to him and Saphira. She told of their final days, and as she described the underhanded trickery Galbatorix had used to slaughter them, small tears fell from her eyes. She tried to wipe them away without him noticing, biting her lip as she frowned.

"You cared for them very deeply," he observed.

"They struck a chord in every person's heart who had the great fortune of meeting them." She looked off into the distance, sniffling in an attempt to stymie the flow of tears.

"What about you?" Eragon asked her, "What is the story of Loivissa?"

She laughed, the sound like bells ringing a harmonious melody in his mind. "That tale is not nearly as interesting, and is probably best saved for another time."

Eragon had the good sense not to press any further, and instead settled for the quiet companionship of watching the sun sink ever closer to the horizon. "Would you like some tea?" he asked.

She nodded, and he withdrew into Oromis' hut, quickly boiling water in two cups with magic before placing the leaves in them to soak. He returned shortly, handing her a cup as they sat on the ground, staring out over the cliff.

"Is Angela still alive?"

Loivissia cast him a sideways glance. "Yes, she seems to defy the march of time much like we elves do, and yet appears to be fully human. I dread to think what kind of fungi she has to eat to maintain that complexion."

Eragon choked on the tea he was drinking as waves of laughter overtook him, making him shake as he half-coughed and half-laughed, attempting to clear his throat to get air back into his lungs. "It can't be as bad as the gruel that the dwarves disguise as food." Loivissa's set her teacup down, smirking with genuine mirth that reached her eyes, and Eragon felt his breath catch in his lungs. She looked up at him and smiled even brighter.

"No, not quite as bad as that. You'd think that being so _in tune_ with the ground would allow them to be able to tell what kind of dirt is good for planting."

They sipped the rest of their tea in relative silence. When Eragon got up to wash the cups, an idea struck him as he absent mindedly scrubbed them. _A gift, to a maiden so fair and kind._

He walked back out carrying a small sack of burlap, and knelt in front of Loivissa, placing his hand above the ground in front of her. He sang songs of life and of growth, and slowly a green stalk emerged from the ground. He sang and sang, thickening the stalk and elongating it, growing a bud on the head that blossomed into a blue lily. When he was satisfied with the outcome, he scooped it out of the ground, keeping the roots with the soil that they had grown in, and placed them into the small burlap sack so she could replant it elsewhere.

He handed it to her, and several emotions flashed across her features; joy, grief, appreciativeness, longing, regret, coming to rest on a vapid expression of which he could discern no actual emotion. She took the gift, and as he said, "A beauty that can't rival yours, try as it might."

She rose, a stoic expression on her face, emptiness in her eyes, and stared at him for a few seconds. He held her gaze, waiting for her to speak, but she did not, choosing to turn away. taking a deep breath, and jumping off the edge of the cliffs.

Eragon was left trying to figure out what he had done wrong. As the sunlight disappeared below the horizon, he was left sitting on the Crags of Tel'naeir alone, despising his attempt to further things with the mysterious elf.

* * *

 **A/N- I hope you enjoyed the change in pace and advancement in plot, some of the reviews were pretty _interesting_ about such matters. **

**Anyway, guess I can't make _everyone_ happy. Hope you liked the chapter! If you did, leave a review! My co-author will see if they can respond to a few of them (the ones that actually have helpful criticisms/questions) So leave a review!**

 **Au revoir,**

 **ZoSo7MoS**


	13. Chapter 13- Time

**A/N- Hello everyone, its me, ZoSo7MoS. Yes, I am sorry for the long wait, but hopefully this will make up for it. Don't hate me, please. Afterword by my co-author, so please read through that as well :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 13- Time**

 **Eragon**

Eragon hadn't slept or eaten in days. Frantically running back and forth, casting and recasting spells with such haste that he had to allow Saphira to check his handiwork for him. His physical body was deteriorating, but his magic reserves were not reduced in the least. _Time. Why is it that you drag on when I don't need you? When I do, you vanish like dust in the wind._ He had less than three days until the celebration began, and far too much work to accomplish before then. He had constructed tens of thousands of fairths, and was in the process of joining them all together, a tapestry unlike any before it. It was proving far more difficult than he had anticipated, though. He was hoping to have been done by now so he could spend some time amongst the visitors who were pouring in day after day.

He had not thought about Loivissa since the day she had left him mysteriously, and he didn't have time to ponder upon her reaction to the lily. But he promised himself he would find her as Arucane and fix his... _mistake?_

 _Will you make a new disguise, with Mairon seeking you out?_ Saphira questioned, as she sent him a mental image of a weave where had failed to bind two fairths perfectly.

 _I don't think so._ Eragon replied, hovering back to that spot to recast the enchantment. _He might cause a stir, but I think the atmosphere of the celebration will calm any anger or violence that would otherwise surface. As long as I dont grab his attention..._ He fixed the incorrect spell, and rushed off to another area Saphira showed him that needed improvement. _The eyes of a dragon are hard to please._

Saphira snorted, flames shooting over Eragon's head. _The eyes of a dragon, hard as they are to please, are nothing compared to the pickiness of a heart. Honestly, with all the beautiful women you have seen in your lifetime, It is unbelieveable that you cannot even consider any to be yours. Loivissa is quite something, is she not?_

Eragon scoffed. _I can't feel love for anything but you, Saphira. No human or elf can make me feel what is no longer there._

 _The only one that might, is beyond you... Did you feel love when you felt her presence, little one?_

He thought to himself, stopping Saphira from listening momentarily. _I do not know what came over me. I cannot see her. Not yet. One thousand years. Memories mean nothing..._

He felt Saphira's mind probe questioningly, but he ignored it. She huffed turning away. He knew she could see through him, as she almost always could, but he wasn't in the mood to try to defend himself or his choices. He had far too much work to accomplish. At the rate he was going, he'd be lucky if he was able to finish it all by the end of the first day of the Agaeti Blodhren.

 _I take it back. I_ _ **can**_ _believe that you'd want her again. It's just like you to find the most difficult hole to climb out of, and then jump into it with both feet. Perhaps that's why you've grown so much. You can't stand the idea of not being challenged._

Eragon smiled. She was right, yet again. He always strived to be the best at whatever it was that chose to do. And right now, he had work to do.

He worked late into the night, and the following morning had only accomplished a fraction of what he needed to have done. With each passing hour, Saphira found more and more flaws in his work until finally, she stopped him.

 _Enough!_ She sent a wave of mental evergy, slapping her tail down in between him and the two fairths he was trying to piece together. _You need to rest, Eragon. I know you have enough magic to complete this, but your mind is faltering. You're only human, and it is okay to admit that. This work's perfection is worthy of a God. And only a God can finish it without resting._ _Nothing can be accomplished if everything has to be done twice._

"I can't stop, Saphira. I need to finish this before the celebration. I have to get it all completed at least by the last day. Even if I don't rest, I'll miss the first two, but it has to be perfect." Eragon climbed over her tail, frustration and anger building as he began to utter another spell. Magic swirled around him, in a strange unholy spiral around his body. He rose up from the ground, hands shaking with power. His eyes glowed, burning a sickly golden.

Saphira growled, long and low, interrupting his focus and making the spell fall apart. _STOP!_

His feet touched the rocks below him, and the earth shook.

"Saphira, don't you realize?!" Eragon shouted, his frustration overflowing. "I. DONT. HAVE. ANY. _**TIME**_ _!"_ As he shouted the last word, he felt energy explode outwards from him, a wave of pure power erupting out of his body. He looked down at his hands, blinking to clear his vision. They were glowing golden.

His eyes rolled backwards, and panic overtook him, as he collapsed in a heap on the ground, world turning black.

* * *

 **Arya**

Upon returning to Ellesmera, Arya had faced quite the inquisition from Mairon about the stranger on the Crags. Insisting that she hadn't seen anyone there, and determined to keep him from interfering with Arucane again, she had personally cast spells restricting anyone from venturing to the old home of Oromis and Glaedr except her and Angela. She couldn't bar the witch from entering, and would hate to have to explain to her why she wasn't able to go up and collect some of her precious fungi. She found herself wondering _why_ she did it, but was still unable to give an answer that didnt involve her reckless curiousity.

She held the Lily up, looking at its perfection with longing eyes. The stranger had given her a Loivissa. Memories of the Broddring Kingdom and a gold lily made her breath stop, catching in her throat like a sudden punch in the stomach. Her hand shook as she cast a spell to preserve the flower, encasing it in glass. She looked out of her window, longing in her heart, and whispered his name. " _Eragon..."_

Arucane was an enigma, no doubt, but he would never be... _him._ Her heart had frozen, and only fire could melt it. _The living flame._ Curiousity burned away, leaving her desperate for interaction with him. He was the only one who had made her feel a spark of emotion, for the person she had once been. Arucane made her feel like she was no longer alone. But he could never know who she truly was, otherwise he would no longer. _I need to apologise for leaving him so abruptly. Perhaps I need to move forward. The werecat was right. This is what I was looking for. I am no longer alone. I will let go of the past, and Loivissa will feel hope, because Arya never can._

Mairon was furious with her decision to close off the Crags, and he wasn't the only one. _But such is the will of the queen. I needn't indulge every whim of my subjects._ She thought to herself. Firnen's approval echoed through her mind. He was right, but a little part of her still felt guilty that she hadn't confided in anyone before taking such a drastic measure. There were many elves that still made visits to the Crags to honor the memory of the fallen Rider and his golden partner. _At least it will only be for a short time._ _Until I find out what he is doing here._ She thought, trying to reconcile herself with that fact. After the celebration, if Arucane didn't leave she would have to find a way to confront him. She couldn't keep her people from one of their beloved memorials for any longer than that.

As it was, Ellesmera was in an uproar. There were preparations for the celebration taking place every second of the last week, and for the last month there had been a steady inflow of elves from all corners of Du Weldenvarden, and the lands beyond. The city was bursting at the seams with all the people packed into it. You could hardly walk from one house to the next, the throngs of elves were so tightly packed.

 _We've done well as a race. Never before have I seen so many of my kind in one place_. Firnen reflected her happiness, soaring overhead with flocks of dragons. There were enough of them that it was hard to distinguish one from another in the great rainbow cloud hovering over the forest. _All the races have flourished unbelievably since the end of Galbatorix's reign. Whatever ends this peace will be fiercely met and quickly extinguished. The new Order of Riders is stronger than ever._

As she was looking up at the sky, her thoughts distant, she felt a chill run down her spine, a coldness moving through her mind. The dragons on the far side of the flock froze mid-flight, the beat of their wings slowing down and then stopping. She stood up suddenely, eyes widening. A ripple moved through the air towards her, a wave of energy she could sense from a distance and she quickly cast a spell which would, she hoped, prevent whatever that was from touching her. She watched in shock as everyone and everything around her suddenly ceased moving, as if they had died in spot without even the energy to fall to the ground. The spell she cast took a massive toll on her, and she dropped to one knee, reaching out to Firnen to borrow some of his strength. The ball of dread in the pit of her stomach suddenly leaped into her throat as she realized she hadn't shielded him, and she could no longer feel his presence. That's when a second ripple hit her, throwing her back, and she collapsed, unconscious.

* * *

 **Mairon**

 _Something's not right. He shouldn't have been able to vanish like he did, and now not even the queen can find him. Has he come for the Eldunari? Is he a scout for some previously unheard of contingency of elves who wish to overthrow the knotted throne? Is he a loon with magic nobody understands yet?_

Mairon paced back and forth in his tree house. No matter what the truth was, he would have to apprehend this stranger before he could become a threat to Ellesmera. He consulted with Melkor, and although wary, his dragon agreed that they had to place the safety of the city above any individual. Even if it was treason, the queen's judgement was hazy. It was possible that the stranger had manipulated her. He made contact with several other Riders that he knew to be loyal to him, and told them to gather the day before the celebration in a clearing far from the city, where only Riders would be able to reach.

 _Together, with a net of spells and the combined strength of twenty Riders and dragons, surely we can capture this stranger. Or at least we'll provide enough of a deterrent to keep him from messing with anyone._

Melkor interrupted his planning to say, _Be sure your heart follows a true path. Revenge is a difficult thing to let go, and it will not quell the storm that rages within you. You cannot undo the past by taking it out on the future._

 _I know what I'm doing, Melkor. And when we do catch the wolf in our midst, the queen will be forced to acknowledge that I am capable of becoming the next leader of the Riders. I will be more powerful than Eragon Kingkiller and Vrael of old._

A chill went through the air, and he felt raw power in the distance. The sound of the people outside diminished rapidly, and he tensed. Melkor shifted nervously outside. _Maybe you shouldn't bandy about the thoughts of being more powerful than the gods themselves._ Mairon lifted his eyes to his window, and briefly saw a ripple in the air moving towards him at incredible speeds. He didn't have time to shield himself as it hit him.

* * *

 **Eragon**

Eragon awoke with a splitting headache, his entire body sore from sleeping on the hard earth. He tried to open his eyes, but the morning sun was directly in front of him, and he had to shut them again. _How long have I been out?_ He aimed his question at Saphira, but received no response. _Look, I'm sorry ok? You were right. You're always right._

Nothing, not even a whisper in response. _Saphira?_ Adrenaline flew through his veins as Eragon realized he couldn't actually feel her presence. He jumped up from the ground and forced his eyes open, groaning as they readjusted to letting light in.

He spun around and yelped, falling backwards on his rear. Saphira had been behind him, but her mouth was open in a fierce snarl. "Very funny, Saphira. I could have fallen right off the cliff, you know." She didn't move an inch.

"Saphira?"

Eragon got up slowly, and walked around her head to see that not even her sides were moving with her breaths. As he circled her body, he noticed that there was no wind. _That's quite unusual for the altitude that we're at._ Then he started really examining the area around him. He opened his mind, as Oromis had taught him to in the glade, and searched for the bright lights indicating the flow of energy in even the smallest of organisms. Saphira's should have been a spectacular sight to see, but all Eragon saw was black. His own light, surrounded by a field of blackness. He got down on his knees and looked very closely at the ground. There he saw a trail of ants, completely frozen in place. Some legs up, some down, none of them moving.

 _Oh no._ _What have I done?_

Eragon lept to his feet, and ran towards the edge of the cliff, throwing himself over the edge. He didnt bother to slow his pace as he fell, choosing to push a burst of air at the ground to catch his fall. He landed and rolled, sprinting in the direction of the city. He ran as fast as he could, passing elves in the forest, frozen in place just like Saphira and the ants. With each one that he overtook, he felt more and more fear at what he had caused. Eventually, he reached the outskirts of Ellesmera and was forced to start climbing over the elves instead of pushing through them. He jumped from one shoulder to another, trying to avoid any of the frailer-looking ones. As he reached the center of the city he shouted as loud as he could, "HELLO?! IS ANYONE HERE?!"

The echo of his cry rebounded and fell on deaf ears. No reply came. In desperation, Eragon thrust out his consciousness in all directions, determined to spread in as far as he could until he found another light. Absolute darkness enveloped his mind's eye, and he began to panic, forcing it further and further out, refusing to believe what he was feeling. As it reached the very back of Tialdari Hall, Eragon choked. There was someone there. A very faint light, but a light nonetheless.

He sprinted off in that direction, leaping at a reckless pace. He used his magic, urgency burning through his veins, eventually reaching a speed where he was quite literally flying towards the palace. His feet weren't touching anything, and he guided himself towards the light with staggering speed, energy swirling around him as he flew. As he neared the gates, the crowd thinned out and he was able to land gracefully on the steps and run along the ground again. He sprinted through the main gate, down the corridor, to the left, up a flight of stairs, down a corridor to the right, up another flight of stairs, down another corridor, and burst through the doors of a room that he realized, a little too late, was the queen's bedchamber. On the floor was the source of the light. He froze, only realising now who's mental presence it was.

His eyes widened, and his breath stopped for a moment, catching in his chest. Pristine beauty, delicate and peaceful. _Perfection._ Her chest moved up and down, slowly but steadily. _She's breathing._

He was frozen just like everything else was, transfixed in time, his mind a thousand years away. He saw her face the night of the Agaeti Blodhren. He saw her suffering, tortured by Durza, but still strong. He saw her eyes lock with his during the Siege of Belatona. He saw her at Uru-baen, after killing Shruikan. He saw his love, deeper than an abyss, reflected back to him in her eyes, as he said farewell to her, a millenia ago.

A void in his chest where his heart should have been tugged at him. _It's too late. It is and always has been, too late._

Arya.

He felt like laughing at fate.

He knelt down, reaching out to touch her face, but stopped just before his fingertips could touch her cheek. _You are so beautiful..._

He felt sadness resonate through him, the void pulsating with longing.

As he watched her, fingers lightly brushing her hair, he felt her light ebbing. Her breathing shifted, and he realised that he had been staring at her for too long. _Not that time matters right now._

Eragon donned his Arucane disguise, and then he reached out and melded against her consciousness with his own. His mind felt a burst of memory, and he fell to his knees, tears running down his face. _Love. Arya. I Loved You._ The touch of her mind against his felt maddeningly completing. He was no longer a soulless god. He had her. Eragon had her. _Or do I?_

He took a deep breath, pulling back into focus. _Remember who you are. Remember what you have._ _ **Perspective.**_ _She does not need you to complete her, she is the queen of the elves, and you will leave, like you always do, because she doesn't need you. She never did. You need her to fill the void, but you don't see that that void has made you reach powers beyond anything before. You will walk alone, because that is the path your life has led you on. Eragon and Saphira are not human and dragon anymore, they are but myth._

He exhaled, letting Arucane back into his perspective. _Aruca_ _ne is one of them, and you must only let them see him. Because he still has a chance to be human. For a little while._..He gritted his teeth, loosening the mental connection pathway to one just of magic. and forced vast amounts of energy into her. Her eyes shot open, and she jumped up screaming.

"Firnen!"

He stood up. moving back, letting go of the bond lightly, letting her know she wasn't alone. She spun around to face him, and in shock started asking half-questions which he had no answer to. "What- When did- How are y- What!?" She shook her head, trying to focus on who was in front of her. She looked at him contemplatively, and then spoke. "Who are you, stranger?"

"Arucane. I come from a place not of here, to see the Agaeti Blodhren."

"Why has time ceased to flow? Is this something of your design? Why has it not affected me?"

"I'm afraid I'm not entirely certain. I was attempting to perfect my contribution to the festival, and I...lost control of my magic. When I woke, everything was as you see it now, frozen...my queen." He nervously tapped his finger on his leg, not sure of what to say next. The ancient language prevented him from lying, but he still found himself choking up as he spoke to her.

"What do you mean, you _lost control of your magic. You stopped_ **time.** " Anger flashed in her eyes as she marched over to him, glowering at him intimidatingly. "You caused this, _Arucane,_ and you will fix it."

He felt mildly amused at her show of power, but he decided to indulge her.

"I'm afraid I don't know how I caused it though, and to attempt something rash could lead to an even bigger problem, Arya Drottning"

Arya's eyes grew dark at his aloofness and tone. "What I know is that my dragon is trapped up there," she pointed to the sky, "and I cannot feel his presence. If anything happens to him, or anyone else is affected by this foolishness, you will be held responsible."

"As I should be." Arucane motioned to the bed, and she walked over and set herself onto it, graceful but resolute.

"Did you kill them?"

"I don't think so. I believe I might have placed them into some sort of pocket from which they cannot move or communicate...Or perhaps I placed myself into such a pocket?" Arucane stood and started pacing, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Well I was only observing the dragons above, and I noticed a wave of energy coming through the air, anything it touched becoming still. I had the sense to cast a spell over myself-"

In the middle of her sentence, Arya and Arucane heard someone shouting from another room in the palace, "WHICH ONE OF YOU DAMNED IMMORTALS TURNED OFF THE TIME?!"

* * *

 **Arya**

She froze. _Angela._ Her eyes flickered over to Arucane, who was inexplicably unsurprised. _Maybe the herbalist can help us._ She waited for him to react, but his eyes were still transfixed on her. _Why does he look at me that way?_

She was still shaken up from realizing that she couldn't talk to Firnen about this, the one who she had always had by her side, no matter what. But now, with Arucane, she felt like a character from the Epic of La'Shnei, a mystery story that had been one of her favorites since she was a child. There was something strange going on, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. Like a stream after the first rains, she felt rejuvenated and young. _If It was dignified, I'd thank this strange man for giving me some adventure..._

When she heard the shouting continue, she felt her heart skip a beat. "ARYA!"

"That was Angela!" she exclaimed, almost grabbing Arucane's hand to pull him along, but she stopped herself, and he noticed as well, his eyes burning into hers with a piercing knowingness. She felt naked and guilty under his gaze, but her mental guards protecting her secrets had not been breached. Loivissa was still secret to him. She put her hand down slowly and composed herself. In her excitement, she almost lost her coldness of a queen. This man had been utmost ignorant of elvish customs, or didn't care enough to be sycophantic like everyone before him.

Instead of pulling him down the hallways to the other corner of the palace, she merely walked out of her chambers and into the staircases and halls of the palace. He followed her wordlessly. She eventually reached a room that the elves had set up with all sorts of cauldrons and drying racks, glass tubes and dark rooms for fungus growth. There, sitting cross-legged and clearly agitated, was Angela the Herbalist.

"You two. I should have known." Angela huffed as she stood up, dusting off her robe. "Well, go ahead and turn it back on. I haven't got all day you know. Well, I suppose I do now that today is well, infinite. But I'm sure everyone outside would love to be able to get out of the sun before they fry. It's not very healthy to spend an inordinate amount of astime outside. Why, just last week I was conducting a test on how different amounts of exposure to light could affect various plants and fungi, and you know what I found out?"

"Angela!" Arucane interrupted. "We need you to tell us what is going on. Then we can chat all you like about different amounts of sunlight and the effects it has on your plants."

"Well don't you know? I assume it was you, after all, who stopped time. Nice work on your _other_ project by the way." She motioned over his body, drawing crude circles around his face with her index finger. " _It looks like you missed a spot_." Angela whispered into his ear, just barely loud enough for Arya to hear. The herbalist touched his hands, taking them into her own, her fingertips gliding over his palms. Arucane's eyes widened for less than a second, and he mumbled a quick spell..

 _What was that?_

"Arucane, we need to fix this." Arya spoke, disregarding the mysterious interaction.

"Arucane! Bah. Horrible name." Angela cackled.

"I have reasons for not revealing my secrets, just as you have reasons for not revealing yours. Please, leave it be, Angela" Arucane tried to convey the seriousness of it through his eyes, clearly desperately hoping she wouldn't expose him any further.

Angela huffed again, rolling her eyes. "Fine, do as you please, _Arucane_. But I need you to turn time back on so I can finish boiling this toadstool. Potions don't like being subjected to time-warping, you know!"

"How would one do that?"

Angela's mouth dropped open, fury growing in her eyes. "What do you mean _how_ you blockhead? Are you insinuating you froze time without any idea what it was that you were doing? How could you possibly be such a-" She cursed at him the most crude of curses, which made even Arya wince.

Arucane sighed, "Look, I was trying to perfect my gift for the Agaeti Blodhren, and a disagreement I had caused me to get frustrated enough to use magic subconsciously. Do you know how to unfreeze the world?"

Now it was Angela's turn to sigh. "No. I don't know how to unfreeze time. What you've just done has only been done one other time in history, and it was done by someone who has long gone. If I did know how to do it, I would have already done it. Being stuck in time isn't something that anyone needs to experience for a prolonged amount of- well, I would say time, but that wouldn't be apt, would it now, you blockhead?"

"Do you know anyone that can help us?" Arya asked her, hoping that this mistake wouldn't be the end of it all.

"Unfortunately no, I don't. I'm afraid you're on your own with this one. Now shoo, get out! I have important business to attend to."

Arucane and Arya were left with more questions than they came with, as the meetings with Angela usually provided. Sighing, he turned away to leave, but before stepping out of the doorway, he spun on his heel to face Angela. "Why aren't you trapped like the others are?"

"Because I take my vitamins. Now get out!"

 _This woman_. Arya thought. _If I didn't think she had the best intentions at heart, I would have her jailed._

They were walking back down the hallway towards the stairs when they heard Angela's door burst open. "Wait! Wait! Talk to the Star Child." Then she turned and slammed the door shut behind her again.

Arucane looked confused for a moment, but then realisation crossed his face. _Or at least it looked like realisation._ "Elva?"

Arya looked at him, puzzled. _Elva?_ _How could she help us? Even if she could...where is she?_ Arya ran outside with Arucane in tow, knelt and dug out a small hole in the ground, then cast a spell to fill it with water, and cast a scrying spell to allow vision and sound. There, they were able to see Elva, surrounded by sand. The desert. There were cacti around her, and a small pack was tied to her back.

Arya released the flow of energy, and sat on the ground, her knees drawn up to her chin. "It looks like we're in for quite an adventure."

Arucane looked at her, edges of his lips curling upwards in a smile that seemed all too eager. Her heart skipped a beat.

* * *

 **Hello all you committed, compassionate followers and your colorful vernacular. I am the co-author for the wonderful ZoSo7MoS. My name is ReviewMaster52497, or RM for short. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, valued reader. I'm here to reply to some of the reviews you all have left for us, and hopefully clarify some of the questions you might have. Without further ado, welcome to RtR (Replies to Reviews).**

Scarlett Barnes; I believe we will be exploring some of the history of the past 1,000 years. However, don't be looking for 500 chapters detailing everything that has happened. As far as Murtagh, I suppose we can take it into consideration.

Raptor Gil; I can't speak for ZoSo7MoS, but I will definitely be checking out The Color Thief.

Bowdy; Feats of magic never performed before?! BAHAHAHAHA is that enough for you?

Mad hatter; Mairon isn't able to train the new Riders because Arya doesn't trust him yet. He's too hot-headed.

SeeKayO.o; The expansive vocabulary is a trademark of Paolini's work. I personally feel like it attracts people to the story :)

 **To everyone else; thank you so so so sooooo much for reviewing! Nothing brings us more joy than seeing all of your positivity and heartwarming encouragement. We love and appreciate every single one of you. We are glad to accept constructive criticism and apologize deeply for the delay in the updates. ZoSo7MoS is in college and understandably has very little free time. I work full-time and am in a similar position, but we will strive to update more quickly. I make no promises, but expect the next chapter fairly quickly. A final thought; if you see someone in the comments flaming us, please do not respond to them. A great, positive comment can be destroyed by being negative to another reviewer. Love you all! -RM**


	14. Chapter 14- New Beginnings

**A/N- As usual, late. Its me, ZoSo7MoS. This delay is all on me, not on my co-author, as I have a extremely hectic life. Yeah I know, I know, it shouldnt take more than a few hours of free time, but all I can do is apologise.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14- New Beginnings**

 **Arya**

She was sitting on a large rock, her pack strapped to her back. _Where is he? We said we'd meet here so long ago. It's not like we have time to lose, though..._

She hopped down from the rock to stretch her legs. Since everything was frozen, she and Arucane would have to run. It was a journey that would take far more time than she wished, but there was no way to remedy that.

As she walked about, something caught her eye. It was green, which wasn't unusual in the leafy world of Du Weldenvarden. What was unusual was the fact that it was far above the brush, but not high enough to be in the leaves. As she drew near to inspect it, she realized it was a ship. _I've seen this before.._ Much like the one she had made so many years ago, but it was larger. Frozen, simply waiting for time to restart. _We are the only ones who can kick it off again. The only ones with the ability to help anyone. And we have no idea what we're doing. All this experience, but for what?_

Arya knelt down and scooped out another small pit and drew water to fill it. She had been checking up on Elva to see if the girl had wandered near anything resembling a landmark by which they could locate her. The water shimmered as she cast her spell, and when it became steady, she recoiled in shock. Elva was curled up on the ground, writhing in pain. There was a pool of vomit next to her, and her pack was nowhere to be seen.

 _ARUCANE!_ She mentally screamed, as loud as she could.

" _Ow!_ What? What happened?"

She spun around. Arucane was standing right behind her, his pack slung over one shoulder. When he saw the tears in her eyes, he dropped it and quickly knelt by her. "Are you alright? What is wrong?!"

She pointed at the pool of water. He turned and looked into it with a sharp intake of breath. "Did you see what happened? How long has she been like this?"

"I scryed her fifteen minutes ago and she was fine. I think her curse has caught up with her. We won't make it in time!" Arya felt herself losing composure, and tried to correct herself. _What are we supposed to do?! There's no way we could possibly reach her before she's overcome by the enchantment laid on her._

"What's that?" Arucane asked, pointing at the side of the pool. Arya looked again, and saw a faint glimmer in the water. As if the light there was brighter than the rest Elva's surroundings.

"I don't know." She said. "It could be anything. Light reflecting off her canteen. A pool of water, maybe. How does it help us? We can't run down there fast enough, even if it does tell us where she is."

Arucane stood and grabbed his pack. "Get your things. We're leaving now."

"Didn't you hear me? We won't get-" Arya started to say.

"Get your bag!" Arucane shouted. "We need to act. _Now_."

Arya stood slowly, releasing her spell, and retrieved her bag from beside the rock. When she returned, Arucane was looking at the ship in the air. "...familiar…" she heard him say. Then, shaking his head as if to dislodge an unwanted thought, he turned and asked, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, and he took her hand, whispering something. She recognized the spell and shouted, "No!" She was too late however, and the spell was cast. The world around them disappeared in a flash of light. When the light faded, she found herself in the midst of the Hadarac.

She heard Arucane fall to his knees, and turned to look at him. He was on his knees, breathing heavily. "What the blazes did you just do?!"

Arucane gave a small laugh. "I thought it would have been obvious. I transported us. That took a lot more than I thought it would have."

"Of course it did! You just transported two fully grown beings across thousands of leagues! You're lucky you're breathing, let alone conscious! I almost died trying to move an egg a fraction of that distance!"

"I know." Arucane said, pulling off his pack to dig around in it.

"Then you should know that was a damn foolish thing to do! Where do you get that sort of power?! You cant even pull any from the environment or any Eldunari because its all _stagnant_. Where did you even get that much energy?" Arya was furious with him, but also burning with curiousity. A chill went up her spine as she saw him straighten, taking a deep breath, feeling waves of energy being repressed by him subconsciously. Not that his willingness to do something so dense was smart, but she was still annoyed at him for acting on a hunch without consulting her. "Where are we anyways? What did you see in that image?"

"A tomb." Arucane replied as he retrieved a flask from his bag and took a long drought from it. "A rather famous one too, if I'm not mistaken."

Understanding hit her like a bolt of lightning and she spun around, looking for it. There, twenty feet behind them, was the diamond tomb of the legendary Rider, Brom. The man responsible for putting the Varden in a position to train a new Rider and contest the wicked king.

"How did you know about this? Or about the egg?" She asked, turning to look at him. Arucane seemed to be perfectly fine now, picking his pack up and standing to face her.

"I..." He looked down, then over her shoulder. "I travel...There she is."

Arya spun around, and saw the prone form of Elva lying in the sand on the other side of the tomb. "Elva!" She shouted, running to the girl. She knelt beside her and listened carefully. "She's breathing! But she's close to death. We have to do something."

Arucane strode over and knelt next to her, closing his eyes as he placed his hand on the girl's forehead. Arya became increasingly calmer as Elvas breathing stabilised. _Who is this stranger? Why does he seem to know everything about this land that he doesn't call home? What is this power that he possesses...? It is beyond any elf or riders that I have ever seen..._

* * *

 **Eragon**

He reached out with his mind towards the Star Child, healing and warmth flowing through his fingertips. What he found was a mass of torment besieging her consciousness. The weight of the death of every living thing around them was bearing down on her, tearing her mind apart. He was surprised she was still alive. _I am so sorry, child...for everything I have ever caused you to suffer through..._

Bracing himself, he threw the weight of his mind at the wall of misery, seeking for an entrance. Finding none, he focused all of himself into a chisel and repeatedly struck at it, determined to break it by force. Time and time again, he threw himself against it to no avail. He was about to give up when he felt it. A small crack, but enough to give him hope.

With one colossal effort, he broke through and descended into the madness surrounding the poor girl's mind. He dove further and further, searching for whatever remained of Elva. Eventually, he saw a small light in the midst of the darkness. He summoned up all of his strength and reached out to make contact with it. He heard her crying out in agony, asking for someone to help her. Someone. Anyone. _Elva! We're here. We're going to help you!_ He said, but all he got in return were inaudible howls of grief. She was too overwhelmed by the darkness enveloping her to form a coherent thought.

Eragon dove into the center of her consciousness and slowly began expanding his own outward. He pushed with all that he could, and slowly drove the darkness outward, using his own mind to shelter hers. It was excruciating, but nothing compared to what she had been feeling. _Finally. This is the end. Damn werecat._

 _Elva! I'm here._ He said.

 _Come to take me to the next life, have you? It's about that they would send a god._ She sounded weary.

 _I'm afraid not. I need your help to erase all of this suffering. Please, Elva._ He pressed memories into her mind, of when he blessed her in Farthen Dur. Of the defeat of Galbatorix. Of his outburst which caused the time fracture, and of Angela's advice to seek her out.

 _Eragon?!_ Shock radiated through her mind. _How are you here? When did you come back!?_

 _I don't have time to explain. Right now, I need you to talk with Arya. You need to figure out what spell can fix this, I'll hold this back until you do. Please hurry Do not tell her who I am.._

 _Alright, but you owe me an explanation when this is all over._

As he felt her withdraw to talk with Arya, he added, _My name is Arucane._ He felt an inquisitive tendril of thought, but she didn't comment.

* * *

 **Arya**

Arya was nervously pacing. Ever since he had touched Elva, Arucane hadn't responded to anything she said. Whatever he was doing, it was taking every ounce of focus he had. Elva had stopped convulsing, but was not moving.

Then she saw the girl's fingers curl, and legs twitch. "Elva!" She cried out, kneeling next to her.

Elva slowly opened her eyes and attempted to sit up. Arya helped her up and the girl said, "Water, Arya. Please." Arya fumbled around in her pack for a moment before producing a flask and handing it to her. Elva gulped down the liquid, and handed it back to her.

"Your companion here," she pointed at Arucane, "has explained it to me. And I believe there is a way I can help you. Or rather something you can do yourself. Fashion a spell to counteract the one this _moron_ has cast. He is holding back the pain of my curse, but it might be temporary, there is too much death. Time itself has stopped. I never expected to find myself subject to its whims again, but I guess you can't ignore the pain of all life in Alagesia dying. Since he is holding everything else back, I should be able to focus on you, and should you make a mistake, I'll be able to cut you off before you cast the spell."

Arya was doubtful, but she had no better ideas. She weighed her options, and finally said, "Ok, but what if I can't remove what he's done?"

"No. Doubt yourself and it will never work. Start casting the spell, _queen of the elves._ You're the only one here." Elva held her gaze, steady and even. The girl's eyes seemed to bore into Arya's soul. She knew Arya had fears, but she also knew there was no other way.

"Alright. I suppose it's foolish to fight fate." Arya breathed deeply, then started with the most rudimentary spell she could think of, one that basically said _time- restart._

"Stop. You'll die if you cast that

Arya sighed and tried again, this time trying to use Arucanes energy to reverse the effects, as they had stemmed from him.

"Stop! We'll all die if you cast that one. There is more power there than you know."

Arya stopped in the middle of a word, and began formulating another spell. It went on like this for several tense minutes, each spell resulting in certain death for everyone. Arya grew increasingly frustrated until she burst out, "It's hopeless! I'm not clever enough to do this!"

Elva pursed her lips. "Let me talk to him for a minute."

The girl closed her eyes, and Arya was left waiting for someone else to save her again.

* * *

 **Eragon**

 _She can't do it, Eragon. If she uses an absolute, it will consume her energy and she'll die. If she doesn't, the spell will release before completion and we'll all die. I can't see how, but I see no future for anyone if a spell isn't carried forth to it's finish._

 _Tell her to cast the absolute spell._

 _She'll die, Eragon! How could that possibly be an acceptable route for you, of all people?!_

 _Trust me, Elva. If I stopped time, I can start it again. Just have her cast the spell, and tell me when she's going to do it._

 _She's not going to like this._

 _She will still do it._

* * *

 **Arya**

"What do you mean?! He wants me to die?" Arya couldn't believe what she was being told.

"He told me to have you cast the spell. I'm sure he's thought this through. He wouldn't risk killing you if there was another solution."

"I don't like being kept in the dark, Elva." Arya's emotions were fluctuating so quickly, she couldn't tell what she was feeling.

"Join the club. Now cast the spell, but wait just a second so I can tell him you're doing it."

Elva closed her eyes, and Arya began counting to ten.

"One...two…three…" _What if he's wrong?_ "...four...five...six…" _What if I just die?_ "...seven...eight...nine…" _Who is he?_ "...ten."

Arya cast the spell, and as she uttered the last word, she immediately felt her energy draining at an incredible rate. Right as she felt the end approaching, a massive flood of energy filled her. Energy so expansive she couldn't even believe it could exist. It was greater than all of the Eldunari they had. Greater than even the Menoa tree. _I'm here._

 _Arucane? How? What about Elva?_

 _She'll be fine as long as we complete this. Now, to new beginnings._

The next thing she knew, Arya was being swept away in a current of energy so vast, it felt like she was surrounded by the life force of everything that lives and had ever lived. She felt lost in it all, as if she was merely the conduit through which some god was enacting his will upon the world.

Then, as quickly as it flowed into her, the energy left. She no longer felt the drain upon her own, but she was still incredibly weak from the first couple of moments. She opened her eyes, and saw Arucane flat on his back, grinning from ear to ear.

"Is it done?" She asked, dizzy from the effort. "Did we fix it?"

"Can't you feel it, queen?" Elva replied, standing up and stretching. "The wind is blowing again."

Arya closed her eyes and laid down. "Good. I just need to take a little rest..." As she was about to fall into a deep slumber, she felt the enormous power of Arucane's mind press against hers and he funneled vast quantities of his energy into her. She jumped to her feet and turned to face him.

"How? How do you have that much power? Who are you? What are you? HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Arya fired off questions rapidly while she walked over to him, bent down and picked Arucane up by his tunic. "I want answers! Now!"

Arucane looked at her with those deep, old, knowing eyes. "I simply used the environments energy to form a loop, drawing in on itself. As time restarted, I used the energies of the lives restarting to fuel their own readapting to the energy within them, Like a positive feedback loop, I let Alagaesia heal itself, it just needed a burst of energy to give the initial response."

She gaped at him in awe. " _That's...very clever. You absolute_ _ **madman,**_ _but it was clever."_ He merely smiled at her sadly. "But it was still a risk." She bit her lip and looked down, exhaling in relief that the chain of events didn't turn out as bad as they could have.

"As for your other questions, I will answer what I can, but now is not the time for my story. Suffice it to say I am a friend to the elves and all the people of the land. I have... _abilities,_ that, while not altogether mine, were given to me after centuries of training and learning by someone who trusts me with the ability to use it wisely." He gestured around him. " _This_ is unfortunately proof that I still have many lessons to learn."

Arya released him, although she was still not at all pleased with his answer. Then she remembered, "The celebration!"

Arucane bent over and retrieved his flask from his pack. After taking three long droughts from it, Arya could feel energy leaking out of him, and his mind struggling to repress that vast amount from escaping. "Elva, would you like to come?"

Elva turned to face them, a big smile on her face. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Arucane clasped both their hands, and they disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

 **A/N- Apologies, once again, this is all on me. Hopefully my brilliant co-author can get the next chapter rolling as he did this one (They wrote most of this one. I know, I suck) and there wont be such a delay on my part. :(**

 **LEAVE A REVIEW! :)**


End file.
